For Just One Cell
by Dobby's Socks
Summary: A Time Lord's body is a miracle, so somebody decides it should be used accordingly. The Doctor's friends don't agree, but perhaps they need help from someone who's been following him through time and space, desperate to be reunited. Rated for swearing and DoctorWhump, AU after S6, Sequel to "It Can Come Back", same pairings COMPLETE, SEQUEL IN PROGRESS
1. Chapter 1

**So…I caved. Are you happy? This is the sequel to my previous story, It Can Come Back. After so many people asked for one, I realized there were still places I could go with it and the characters. Plus, nearly all the multi-chapter stories I write seem to include multiple companions, and it'll be nice not to have to reintroduce them all over again for once. I was originally going to write this story as a stand-alone fic, but figured it was simpler to tie it in with my previous story. **

**A LOT of the inspiration for this idea, however, came from Starling-Night's brilliant oneshot "Let Her Under Your Skin, Into Your Heart". You should totally read it by using this link:**

** www. /s/8565559/1/ Let-Her-Under-Your-Skin-Into-Your-Heart**

**Remove the spaces, copy and paste it into a new tab, and read it. It's awesome. Seriously, go do it. Right now.**

**At any rate, this fic picks up not directly after the end of It Can Come Back, but sometime after it (because, frankly, I could not describe with written words the awesomeness of that field trip). Hope you enjoy the sequel!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter One**

"River, _run_!" Her ragged breath was puffing out in visible clouds before her as the icy air seemed to stab into her lungs. Still, she kept on, knowing slowing wasn't really an option at the moment. If anything, she needed more speed.

Up ahead, his long legs were working to their advantage for once as he covered more and more ground over a shorter period of time. That was perhaps a good thing, because then maybe he wouldn't notice if she just turned back and shot off a warning round or two—

He'd skidded to a halt in the snow, slipped and slid his way back to her, and snatched up her hand. "I said run, not shoot, dear!" Their pursuers were catching up now, and so even as they started sprinting once again, she fired off two shots into the cavern's icy ceiling, causing snow, ice, and rock to fall down into the path behind them, blocking the way.

"I know, honey, but running doesn't work so well when they have sledges!" She retorted. They kept their frantic pace because neither knew if one of the more daring sledge drivers might try to jump her makeshift barricade.

But at the snap of his fingers, a staccato sound that echoed through the whole cave, she knew there was nothing to worry about. They were safe, they were home. The TARDIS, parked just where he'd left it, waited with open doors to welcome her beloved pilots. Ever the gentleman, he ushered her in first and then slammed the door shut behind them.

River Song stood with her hands braced on her knees a moment, needing time to gain her breath. She lost it all again the moment she looked at him.

The Doctor's back was plastered to the door, arms flung out wide, and chest heaving as though he'd never had air before in his life, eyes popped open to a comical degree as he met hers. And River promptly burst into laughter, she just couldn't help it.

"River. River, that was not funny!" He scolded, still not moving from the doors. Like if the TARDIS couldn't keep them safe, he could. Silly man.

"I'm sorry, my love," she managed, straightening and schooling her features into an apologetic smile. "But you really can't blame them for overreacting to someone with an above-average body temperature in an ice-world."

"Their queen wanted to use me as a space-heater. A space-heater!" The Doctor repeated indignantly, relaxing his body a bit as their seemed to be no imminent threat, but still keeping his arms held out.

River chuckled a bit as she stepped toward him. "I think the term you're looking for, Sweetie, is bed warmer." She trailed one cool finger down his chest, which felt like the outside of an oven while something was cooking inside. "And you're rather good at it," she added, taking delight in the way his cheeks, already a rosy pink from their time out in the cold, flushed a deep red. Tilting her head to the side, as though considering, she eventually shook it with a smirk, "And I'm not willing to share."

"Well- that's—I mean, we're- you and I—" He stammered quite adorably, and oh it was just too easy. As he spoke, River wound her arms around his neck, gently pulled his head down to meet hers, and pressed their lips together. The Doctor's arms hung limply in the air a moment, completely caught off guard, before wrapping around her lower back.

It was tender and almost chaste, and feeling warmed completely from head to toe, she pulled back to see the frown gone from his face. Instead, he smiled at her gently as one hand rubbed up and down her back, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. She could still do with some warming up then.

River nuzzled him with her cheek, tucking her head under his chin and drawing as close as possible. She was beginning to suspect he was doing it on purpose, ramping up his own temperature to get hers back to normal. "Thank you, Sweetie."

Her husband said nothing, and she was sure if she looked he would have his face buried in her curls, eyes shut and a contented smile on his face. This was her time, her way of showing him that it was ok, the danger had passed, no one needed saving, and that he could stop running for just a moment. That was one of the many, many reasons the Doctor needed company, or he'd run himself ragged, Raggedy Man.

But she enjoyed the running just as much. With a sigh, he pulled back and grinned. "Right, so this trip wasn't the best," he skipped up the steps to the console. The Old Girl hummed as he began pulling levers and pushing buttons, taking off. "Where do you want to go next, Professor Song?"

River smiled and walked up the stairs to join him, even as she shook her head. It seemed he had forgotten, or chosen to forget, again. As his fingers hovered over the keys to input coordinates, she raised one of her own in a chastising way. "Ah, ah, ah. Doctor, it is _my_ turn to drive," she reminded, watching him literally deflate.

"But, _River_," he protested, such a child, but she refused to back down. This was their agreement, as it was the only way to compromise. They took turns picking destinations and piloting the TARDIS, and while she was sure he knew far more places to go then she, her perspective as an archeologist was just as valuable in finding good ones.

"No buts, Doctor," she told him firmly, guiding him over to the pilot's chair and pushing on his shoulders until he sat down. The Time Lord pouted as moved about the console, looking away any time she glanced at him, which probably explained his surprise at suddenly finding himself with a lapful of his wife.

"R-River!" He squeaked, but didn't protest when she kissed him again. He was just too endearing to resist, the daft old man. His hands were cupping her face when she leaned back.

"We don't have to leave right away," she pointed out. She would be perfectly content to just float in the vortex with her husband and their ship. The only other thing she could ever ask for were her parents. But, it was for the best they weren't here in _this_ exact moment.

The Doctor, meanwhile, looked at her with concern. "Are you tired, River? Sorry- I forget sometimes, you're part-human, too." But she shook her head to placate his worries.

"No, I'm not tired," she told him, before her lips curled up in a wicked smirk. "Not _yet_."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Not yet?" he repeated, "What do you—" She cut him off once again, but he didn't really seem to mind, burying his hands in her hair as she made quick work of his bowtie. She probably would have kept going if the Doctor had frozen beneath her, broken away, and leaned his head to the side to look over her shoulder at the console, dazed.

"The phone…" he said incredulously.

"Yes, dear. It's a phone, it rings." But he was still looking at it, and his hands slowly fell away from her hair. "You never answer your phone," she accused, aware it sounded just a little immature. At last he looked at her, and his eyes were completely serious.

"That's not just any phone." She found herself lifted into the air, spun about, and unceremoniously plopped into the pilot's chair before she could blink. He was rooting about the console for something as the ringing continued. "Aha!" He exclaimed triumphantly, grabbing up a cell phone and flipping it open. "Martha?"

OoO

He asked it with a smile on his face, but inside the Doctor felt rather anxious. Because while he was incredibly happy to receive a call from Martha Jones, it usually meant that something bad was about to happen. Still, he owed it to her to do whatever she asked, interruptions of time with his wife aside.

"Sorry, this isn't Martha," an unfamiliar female voice replied, sounding quite tense. "This- this is Dr. Charlene Griffiths, UNIT's medical department. I've worked with Dr. Jones."

"Oh," he said, feeling more than a little disappointed and glancing sheepishly at River who had her arms crossed over her chest. "Well, what can I do for you, doctor?"

"I'm stationed at Moorfields Eye Hospital, sir, and—"

"Oh, none of that 'sir' nonsense, Charlene," he couldn't help but interject. Honestly, you would think for an organization that supposedly worshipped the ground he walked on, its members would listen when he told them not to do something.

"Yes," she chuckled shyly, "well, I was put in charge of some biomedical research and- the readings are just- I can't really account for them, but they're _alarming_."

"Alarming?" He repeated, "How so?" River rose from the chair in mild interest.

"Well, uh," she seemed to be floundering, so he decided somewhat impatiently to cut to the chase.

"Alright, well if it's so bad you had to call me, I better hop to it, then. What day is it?"

"The twentieth of March, 2:30 pm" she informed him before seeming to hold her breath. "You're really coming?"

"Of course I am," he replied, hoping to give her some measure of relief through the phone. Poor girl sounded on the verge of some kind of nervous breakdown. "Be there in just a minute." He snapped the phone shut and placed it down, twirling over the typewriter.

"And just what 'of course' are we doing?" River asked, following him around the console.

"UNIT's having some trouble with readings. They've probably found something they shouldn't have and poked it with a stick, good old UNIT," he grinned at her, but she didn't seem to be warming up to the idea. "I do sort of owe them a favor," he tried, "and it'll be fun!" She continued to frown at him and he scratched at his cheek a bit before entering in the new coordinates. "The third moon of Styraxi will be there any other day- good choice, though."

It was the wrong thing to say, for she gave an angry huff accompanied with a stamp of her foot. And people said he was the immature one. "You think you're so impressive when you do that. You're impossible!"

"I can't help it, Styraxi has unique coordinates, I just noticed!" He defended as she stormed off to the wardrobe, presumably to change out of the thick parka she'd worn for their last trip. "River!"

"And you can say hello to that Colonel Mace for me!" She called down the corridor, and he heard a door slam. That confounding woman, could he help it if he'd thought Martha was in danger and was now obligated to see to some interesting if not potentially dangerous thing? He sighed, looking forlornly up at the time rotor.

"Oh, what do I do, Sexy?" She gave a tiny, short hum in response, both scolding and encouraging. "Apologize? I don't even know what I did! And why are you on her side?" He demanded, but the TARDIS gave a violent shake, throwing him headfirst into the pilot's chair, his ship's way of telling him that they'd landed, but he better do as she said.

Defeated, the Doctor cast a glance over his shoulder at the front door, almost tempted to simply run out there into the next adventure. But that wouldn't be fair to his wife.

"River?" He called tentatively, reaching the wardrobe door. It was locked, and he pulled out the sonic- but no, best not, that'd just make her even madder at him. Two psychopaths stuck in a little blue box, they were bound to have spats every once in a while. "I'm sorry. I know I don't often answer my phone, but I did, so now I have to see it through. Maybe it's good we're back on Earth." He leaned his back against the door and kept talking, like she was just behind him listening and not keeping him out.

"We could stop in and see your parents, do something fun together. And Donna- I'll bet you'd love to travel some with Donna, River. You two could make fun of me all the time, along with Pond…not sure who's side Rory'd be on. It's probably not that big a deal, this UNIT thing, won't take that long." Still nothing. He pushed off the door, licked his lips, and tried not to let the hurt enter his tone. "So I'll just be…going now…if you don't want to come…River?"

Oh, what was he doing? For all he knew, it really was something dangerous and Dr. Griffiths was dead because he was too busy trying to get back into his wife's good graces. With the tiny comfort of at least he'd tried to accompany him, the Doctor spun on his heel and exited the TARDIS.

"Oh my- _oh_ my God, it's you. It's you!" A fairly young man, early thirties at the latest, with spiked hair and wire-rimmed glasses stood gaping at both him and the TARDIS. It seemed he had landed outside the hospital.

"Ehm, yes," he said, unnecessarily patting the closed door of the police box. The man's eyes followed that movement, and it took him a moment to refocus on the Doctor's face. "Listen, uh—"

"Butler, sir," the man said quickly. Hm, he didn't know UNIT had butlers.

"Right. I was sort of expecting a Dr. Griffiths."

"Charlene's waiting for you in the lab," the butler informed him helpfully. They stood there for another minute or so.

"Could you show me where that is?" The human gave a start at his question.

"Of course!" He replied, beginning to lead him away. The butler would stop every few steps, however, to gaze longingly at his ship, and seemed quite reluctant to leave it. The Doctor followed him around to a side door, propped open by a little brick, and down a flight of stairs. The man knocked three times, paused a beat, then two more times and he heard the sound of someone frantically undoing locks on the other side.

"Rich, is it—" A woman with dirty-blonde hair pulled into a low bun at the base of her neck poked her head out and stared at him. "It's you…it's really you." Her wide, hazel eyes started at his boots and slowly swept up his whole body, seeming to drink in the image.

"Charlene, I presume?" He held out his hand, which she eagerly took, but instead of shaking it she examined it, turning it over to study every line of his palm. These two…

"Oh, yes- that's me. Come in, come in!" She yanked the heavy metal door open. Inside, the area was practically Spartan. A desk with a chair on either side, a laptop, and a lab bench with barely any equipment. "So, the uh, readings," Charlene rushed over to the laptop and pulled something up on the screen. "I was cataloguing recent data from the med labs into UNIT's collective database, so that all the records are properly coordinated," she explained in one breath, and he nodded to indicate she should continue. "But there was one entry that was an anomaly."

"An anomaly?" He repeated, going around the desk and crouching down to look at the data himself. It was a standard medical log, with statistics and data aplenty. He frowned at the screen, before looking at her and slowly rising back up to his full height. "Me," he said simply, and her eyes widened as she took a step back, defensive.

"How did you—"

"Oh, come on, Charlene, you think I wouldn't recognize my own file? Of course I'm an anomaly, I'm one of the few alien creatures your organization has done an examination of that wasn't an autopsy." She didn't even flinch at the slight, and his frown turned to more of a scowl. "What exactly was so alarming about my file, anyway? If you have some sort of question, you can ask—"

"Oh, I do have questions, Doctor," and the nervousness was gone from her voice, though she still held herself very tense. "But no one can answer them. Not even UNIT, not even you. They have to be tested." He didn't like the sound of that.

"So you're not even working for UNIT, then?" He asked, mostly rhetorical. "Figures, who has a setup in a basement? Oh I really am getting stupid in my old age, the butler should have been a dead giveaway."

"I'm not a butler, my name _is_ Butler!" The man piped up from quite close behind, and he whirled about on his heel to see the man holding a white cloth out as though he'd been about to reach around and—

"Rich!" Dr. Griffiths snapped, furious at her assistant for giving away his position. Richard Butler had the grace to look ashamed for his blunder.

"That wouldn't be chloroform, would it?" He couldn't help the apprehension from coloring his tone. With the right dosage, the compound wouldn't merely knock him out for hours; it would render him unconscious for days. He backed up a bit, though aware that he was stuck between these two humans.

"Look, I'm just an engineer. I'm just in it for the ship," the man excused himself. As Butler took another step toward him, the Doctor retrieved the sonic from his pocket and brandished it, but didn't activate it. Butler stopped, eyes locked on the device pointed right at him.

"You won't use it, Doctor," the human doctor spoke, quite calm, but when he risked a glance back her he saw she appeared quite on edge.

"Says who?" He challenged, hoping that such a bluff might be enough for them to give it up, let him go.

"I- I've been studying up on you," she replied, putting a great deal of effort into keeping her voice steady and her gaze firm. "It's not even a weapon."

Holding his breath, he rested one finger on the button, watching Richard's fearful expression and begging the other man to crack. But he wouldn't be allowed.

"If you don't wish to participate, that's fine," Charlene spoke, and he turned to her in shock. What did she mean, they were just going to let him leave after they took all that trouble to—

Oh. She'd pulled up something else on the laptop screen. Live security camera footage of the hospital, they must have hacked into the system. River was at the main desk, probably asking about him.

"From what the files say, she'd do just as well," and her voice really shook as she said it, making him wonder if perhaps he still could get control of this situation. But he just couldn't risk it. There had been a desperate gleam in Dr. Griffith's eyes from the moment she had seen him—the way someone would stare at some remarkable piece of technology or creature with fascination. That was the kind of manic gleam that could just maybe surpass anything, any reason or logic, to realize its goal.

The Doctor stared for a long time at the screen, and when his shoulders slumped in defeat, the engineer took that as his cue. The sweet smelling chloroform invaded his nostrils and he immediately began to feel his vision cloud over. A pair of arms steadied him as he heard someone else run from the room. What were they after?...in it for the TARDIS.

_Keep her safe, Old Girl,_ was his last coherent thought, _Get her—and you—far away. Please._

OoO

She heard his footsteps shuffle away dejectedly after his attempt at reconciliation and nearly flung the door open to call him back. But honestly, she was in the middle of changing and he could stand to learn—oh, who was she kidding?

River Song hurriedly threw on a lightweight jumper—his favorite, because he said it complimented her eyes—and strapped on a pair of heels, walking briskly down the corridor. Not too fast, because she didn't want her husband to think he could always be so easily forgiven, but still hoping to catch up with him in the console room. No such luck.

Stepping out into the almost-spring afternoon, the archeologist turned her head this way and that, searching for the Doctor's easily distinguishable form, but still did not spot him. She supposed he would have headed straight into the hospital, after all, they had come here to meet with some former coworker of Martha Jones.

She entered through the automatic doors and had to wait somewhat impatiently in a line. When she finally reached the front of the queue, a bored-looking secretary didn't even spare her a glance. "How can I help you?"

"Good afternoon," she said as politely as she could manage to the young woman. "I was wondering if I could talk to—" she stopped, and realized she had absolutely no idea who they were supposed to be seeing here. He'd mentioned a Charlene. "Actually, could I see a list of your personnel?" That got the secretary to pay her more attention, but in the disbelieving and wanting to hurt her sense.

"Sure," the human said, taking quite a long while to type and click her way to a personnel list. River tapped her fingers idly on the countertop and tried not to look frustrated at how slow this was going. "Here." The computer screen was turned so she could see, and River quickly scanned the list of names. No Charlenes, not a one. So where did that leave them?

"You didn't happen to see a strange sort of man pass through, did you?" She inquired, not very hopeful but having no other options. "Fairly tall, with a bowtie and—" the sound of the cloister bell cut her off and she blinked.

That had been much shorter than she'd been expecting. "Never mind," she told the girl who'd hardly been listening. If he was using the cloister bell to call her back, that meant he was likely grumpy from his incredibly brief encounter with the organization. It sounded again as she reached the box, and she had to chuckle a bit as she reentered. "Was it really that dull, dear?" River asked.

But no reply came. Curious as to whether he might be sulking behind the time rotor, the curly-haired woman ascended the stairs again and walked around the console. He was nowhere in sight, and as she made a complete circuit of the control panel, the front doors locked.

"What are you doing?" She asked aloud of the ship, hurrying back down and trying the doors to no avail. Was it her imagination or was someone on the other side trying the door handle as well?

"Damnit," a male voice she had never heard before hissed, "he didn't lock it, I _know_ he didn't lock it."

River was about to demand through the door just who knew the Doctor hadn't locked the police box doors, when suddenly the engines groaned and that signature _vroop vroop_ filled the air.

"No, wait!" The unknown man shouted in despair. "It can't just leave, that's not fair!"

She was shouting, too. "What are you _doing_?" She repeated, racing back to the console and working the controls, attempting to override the dematerialization. But the TARDIS had locked itself up and was already on the way for takeoff, nothing she did having an effect. "He's still out there!" The ship gave a long, pained hum that let her know full well she knew her stolen pilot was not on board. "Where are you taking me?"

River threw every switch, pounded every button, and wrenched every lever in a panicked struggle against the ship she thought of as another parent. The TARDIS shook violently, so much so that she was clinging to the monitor to keep upright. "You can't do this!" She cried, appealing to the ship's love for her. "We've got to help him, we can't just go—" She gave one last tug on the wibbly lever. "Take us where we need to be, Old Girl."

With one last tremor, the TARDIS stopped and fell silent. Afraid of what she might find- for who knew where the ship had finally landed –River consulted the monitor.

They were somewhere safe. They were somewhere far too far away for her liking. And they were somewhere where they could most certainly get help.

The twenty-fifth of March, 11:00 am, Chiswick, London.

**So, bit of a crazy opening, I know. The ensuing chapters will hopefully clear things up, but if you have any questions, leave them in a review or private message me. I can't promise updates as fast as my previous story, but I'll try to make them as regular as I can. At any rate, thanks very much for reading this first chapter, and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Ok, so I'm thrilled to already see such interest in this story. As such, I feel inspired to type! Thanks already for all the reviews, favorites, and follows, guys, now on with the fic!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Two**

Donna Noble had been having the second-best year of her life. The first being 2008, when she'd met a Spaceman and travelled the universe. But this year was a pretty close second.

For one thing, now she was able to actually remember the best year of her life, when for the past few she'd been forced to forget. She also was finally working things out between her and her mum. While Sylvia Noble would probably always nag her about this or that or whatever, through sharing the stories of her travels and the things she'd learned from them, her mother was starting to accept that she was happy with what she was doing in life.

Donna had gone back to temping, except by using her extreme over qualifications she worked in agencies all around the world, getting to see the sights and having her own odd misadventure or two.

But now she was back home, waiting. Because she was ready. She was ready to go out there and see the stars all over again with her best friend.

Most people, her family included, expressed surprise at her patience. Surely Donna Noble, the woman more likely to snap at you than shake your hand in hello, couldn't possibly be content to just sit around and wait indefinitely. But she'd done it before, and she could bloody well do it again.

So it was no shock to her when, on a sunny morning in the early spring, she glanced up at a familiar wheezing of engines. Across the table, her granddad gave a start.

"Oh! Oh, that's him! Donna, it's him isn't it?" She grinned and nodded, rising from the table to set her dishes in the sink. "Ha-ha!" Wilfred Mott cried in glee. "Oh just look at her, Sylvia- our Donna off to see the stars!"

"Don't forget to call," Sylvia reminded calmly, like she was going for a sleepover or something. Donna rolled her eyes, but leaned down to kiss her mum on the cheek goodbye.

"I'll bring back some of those stars just for you, Gramps," she promised.

He was already getting up from the table and hugged her. "Thank you, sweetheart." He pulled back and nodded in the direction of the door. "Now you go on, and you say hello to that Doctor of yours, and I'll get your things."

"I can get my own luggage!" She protested good-naturedly even as he shuffled off. "Stubborn as ever, he is," she remarked to her mother.

"Well," Sylvia took a delicate sip of her tea. "Where do you think we got it from?" The two shared a rare grin, and then Donna was rushing out the door and into the street. There it was—the TARDIS parked right across from her house, still as magnificent as the day she'd first been sucked right up into it.

"Oh I hope you're ready, Spaceman," she breathed, hardly able to contain the exhilaration she felt. Donna ran right up to the doors and flung them open, calling out, "Alright, Doctor, Donna Noble's got a lot more running to do."

But she was met with a sight she wasn't expecting. Not the TARDIS, for while the new interior was still a little unfamiliar to her, she'd been preparing herself for that. It was the absolute lack of the Doctor.

In fact, if she hadn't been so overcome with excitement, she might have realized something was off beforehand. Because really, wouldn't he have at least been waiting outside to greet her? But the box was empty, except—

In the pilot's chair sat a woman she knew, who had her face placed in her hands while her shoulders shook.

"River?" She asked, tentatively approaching the blonde woman. "Professor Song?" She tried again when that didn't work. "What's happened?"

The archeologist raised her head up to meet her gaze, and Donna saw that her eyes were bloodshot. "He's gone," she said simply. The words felt like a punch to the gut.

"Who's gone? The Doctor? What do you mean gone? Gone _where_?" She glanced around in the hopes that maybe the skinny man would just pop his head out from a corridor or climb out from under the console.

"I don't know," the other woman confessed. "But the TARDIS, she left- without him. And now I can't go back because of established events. I don't know why, but somebody was trying to get into the TARDIS, so she left. But now they have the Doctor!"

"Ok," she said, trying to remain level-headed. "Ok, um, we've got to do something, then. Follow me," she said, injecting as much authority into it as she could muster at the moment, when it felt like her world had been turned upside-down. Nevertheless, River followed her back into her home.

"Sweetheart, what's going—hang on, you were one of them people that brought the video that last time." Bless her granddad, he'd nearly gotten all her suitcases into the front hall, but stopped and trailed behind them in confusion into the sitting room.

"Gramps," she swallowed, "it's a Code Thursday Afternoon." The old man's eyes widened and he wrung his hands together miserably.

"Oh, I'd hoped we wouldn't need to be using that one," he admitted ruefully as she powered up her laptop.

"What's a Code Thursday Afternoon?" River Song asked, still distraught but more collected.

Donna attempted one of her typical smirks. "What, did you think the rest of us were sitting at home twiddling our thumbs while you two Time Lords went skipping about the universe? After everything that's happened these past few years, everything that's almost happened, we figured—the Doctor's friends—it'd be best if we kept in contact." The main screen came on and Donna clicked on an isolated icon in the bottom-right corner, typing her passwords at one-hundred words-per-minute. No, even faster, because there was no time to lose.

She spoke clearly and articulately, "Computer: Code Thursday Afternoon." River was still staring at her with an eyebrow raised in question, obviously not in the mood for suspense. That was fine, because Donna was a cut-to-the-chase person herself. "I just let the rest of them know we're in a crisis."

OoO

The effect was instantaneous; one minute River was looking at a blank computer screen, the next smaller sections started blinking into life.

"This is Sarah Jane Smith, responding to Code Thursday Afternoon," the investigative journalist's attic came into view, the woman herself standing in the foreground and looking tense.

"Captain Jack Harkness, responding," the Torchwood leader was next, likely at his computer at work, judging by the below-ground feel his surroundings gave off.

"Mickey Smith, responding," the third screen displayed another office-type setting. "And, as per the agreement with UNIT, I've notified my superiors, so Colonel—"

"The Ponds, we respond!" And her mother's worried face burst onto the screen, her father at her side but leaned back slightly.

"River!" He cried in surprise, both of her parents looking relieved yet nervous at the sight of her. She couldn't blame them. If this Code Thursday Afternoon was supposed to be about the Doctor being in danger, then they were likely wondering what she was doing in a comfy little house in Chiswick, when they knew she'd been travelling with him.

"That's probably all we're going to get," Mickey pointed out, "Martha's sort of busy with the kids at—"

"Don't count me out just yet, Mr. Smith," Martha Jones appeared on the screen from her position in what seemed to be a nursery. A little girl who had to be Mandy was playing with blocks on the rug, and Martha held the baby girl in her arms. "Responding to the Code Thursday Afternoon. Who's got the floor?"

"We do," Donna said at last, indicating herself and River. "The TARDIS showed up at my house today with no Doctor." River saw her parents wince in sympathy for the red-haired woman at that, likely recalling their own experience with finding an empty TARDIS. "But River knows more than I do."

And just like that, everyone's eyes were on her and she felt like the most wretched creature on Earth for having to tell this story.

"He picked up a call from a cell phone," she decided to just get right into it, better to just stick with the facts and not attach any of her own emotion to it. "He seemed to think it'd be from you, Martha." She recalled distantly, even though the event had only been less than an hour ago. Less than an hour ago she'd been wrapped up in his embrace.

"It was my old cell phone," Martha explained, breaking her out of her reverie, "I gave it to him in just in case- but who was really calling?"

She shrugged helplessly. "That's just it—I don't really know. He called her Charlene, and seemed to be under the impression she was working for UNIT."

"Could have really done with a last name, Doctor," Rory muttered, giving an, "Ow!" as Amy jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow. But she paid little attention to her parent's antics.

"He referred to her as a doctor as well," she added, suddenly remembering and feeling an urge to memorize everything he had said, every expression that had crossed his face, because it had been such a short time ago and already the details were fading.

The only thing she couldn't seem to forget was the hurt, lonely tone of his voice as she'd ignored him on the other side of that door.

"Where did you meet this alleged UNIT doctor?" Jack asked, forgoing any of his usual playful banter.

"Moorfields Eye Hospital. He went in to meet with her, and I tried to find out more information at the front desk, but there wasn't anyone named Charlene employed there. Then the TARDIS' cloister bell rang—" That should have been a clue. "so I went back. I thought he must have fixed it or we needed to go somewhere, but he wasn't on board. Then the TARDIS locked me in and flew here."

"Can it do that?" Mickey asked curiously, and Donna nodded.

"That's how I got stuck inside when we were on the Crucible. But why would it have locked you in?" The redhead glanced at her questioningly and River sighed.

"I don't know," she repeated, hating that she knew so little. "The only way the TARDIS will lock without manually doing it yourself is if she decides to," which seemed highly unlikely given the ship's mournful groans as they'd taken off, "or—" She broke off with a sharp gasp, not wishing it to be true, but knowing it was the only explanation.

"River, what is it?" Her mother asked worriedly.

"If he tells her to," she felt numb, almost detached. River could just picture it; the Doctor had found himself in some sort of beyond-dangerous situation, and- as always –worrying about her more than him, had tricked her into safety inside the TARDIS. Beneath the calm, she was starting to feel a quite rage- and fear. What about a human doctor could have been so terrifying or so dangerous that they couldn't have even stood a chance together?

"And the TARDIS won't take you back?" Rory asked for clarification. She nodded, and watched as her father's eyebrows pulled down in puzzlement. "Then why not just drive to the hospital? I mean, it can't be that far from Chiswick, right?" Donna half-rose from her seat as though about to grab her keys, but River placed a hand on her shoulder.

"The TARDIS tried to go into the vortex, dad. I was lucky enough to land where I did, but I left the hospital on the twentieth…it's only been maybe a half-hour for me, but for him it's been five days. Whoever lured him there probably have moved by now."

"Who were those people? 'Charlene' or whatever her name is?" Donna demanded. "And how'd she get the Doctor's number anyway?"

"Don't look at me, I don't give it out to just anyone," Martha defended.

"Yes you did," Sarah Jane argued, a guilty look on her face. "We all did. When the Earth got transported to the Medusa Cascade, I had Mr. Smith make every phone on the planet call that number."

"And UNIT's got it on file," Mickey added. "If you can access their records, then that number's good as yours."

Jack opened his mouth, but it was a voice from Mickey's screen that spoke. "Before you say it, Captain, I personally move that due to the alleged status in our organization of the perpetrator, any further communications and actions be made off-record." Colonel Mace had arrived, looking calm and collected as always.

"How do we do that?" Rory asked, but Amy groaned.

"Oh, this doesn't mean the trailer again, does it? Tell me this doesn't mean the trailer."

"I could lie to you, Mrs. Williams, but to save time, yes it does." She thought that the man was probably smirking on the inside.

"Where exactly will this trailer be?" Sarah Jane asked.

"I would prefer not to disclose details, but if you wish, transport can be sent to your house to take you to its location."

"I do wish it," the brunette requested, the others all chiming in in the positive as well.

"We can have a giant sleepover," Jack said, attempting to inject some humor into the situation, and though they all chuckled weakly, it wasn't very effective.

"Mickey and I will have to take turns so someone's home with Mandy and Michelle," Martha pointed out, shifting the weight of the baby in her arms.

"And Donna and I can meet you there in the TARDIS," River added.

"Very well. I would suggest you all pack, for transport will be arriving shortly. Dismissed." The three soldiers of the group saluted while the others rolled their eyes, and one by one the screens shut off. Her parents were the last to go.

"See you soon," Amy told her, Rory nodding as well.

"See you mum, dad," she replied, trying for a smile, but likely failing miserably. At last the screen went blank.

"I'll get your things, Donna, put them in the TARDIS," Wilfred Mott offered, and shuffled off before his granddaughter could say no.

"Thanks," Donna called after him quietly, and then turned a scrutinizing eye on her. "You alright?" She asked gently.

"Yes," she answered quickly and wiped at her eyes. "I'm alright."

"Don't know what it is with you Time Lords and not wanting anybody to know you're upset," the redhead remarked, shaking her head. "But it'll be fine. We always get him back, and he's always alright in the end." The other woman seemed to be trying to reassure herself just as much.

River scoffed bitterly, "The King of Ok," which caused Donna's lips to curve into a half-smile at the least.

"Come on," she suggested, and the two women got up and walked back out to the TARDIS. True to his word, Wilf had moved every last suitcase and bag into the ship, and stood just inside looking around the interior.

"It's cleaner than the last time," he commented, before looking back at her. "'Spect that comes from a woman's touch." The old man smiled warmly as she could seemingly only stutter a response, no better than her own husband. "Heard how you were talking in there. And I remember the way you were looking at him on that screen in the video that last time." He took her hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. "You'll get him back, just you watch. I'm sure of it."

She felt hardly able to speak. "Thank you," she whispered, and then stepped into the TARDIS.

"Goodbye, Gramps. I'll call the minute we find out anymore," she heard Donna promise. Then the temp shut the front door and joined her at the console. "If you need a minute, I can unpack," the redhead said softly. River felt grateful, yet undeserving of Donna Noble's kindness.

"Yes, please," she replied anyway, because she did need some time. Alone, she trailed a hand over the controls, just as he would have, and made a complete circle around the console. Feeling tired and utterly bereft, she collapsed into the pilot's chair again, and couldn't help thinking that an hour ago he'd been there instead and she'd curled up on his lap. And now she'd abandoned him to some terrible, unknown danger for five days.

"We've got to find him," she said, unable to resist curling up just as she had done, closing her eyes, and trying to pretend that he was still there somehow. The TARDIS gave a low hum, obviously in agreement and feeling equally melancholy.

OoO

He sighed, hefting his backpack onto his shoulders as the bell rang, and made his way out of the building. While most kids his age were off to hang out, blow off homework, or play video games, Aaron Wood was going to work.

Yes, it was official, he had no life. Aaron had enjoyed a brief spike of popularity after the Fieldtrip of Epic Proportions, as it had been dubbed by his classmates, but eventually people stopped talking about the mad man who came to school, and started talking about who was going out with who or what was in season for fashion and the like. And Aaron just didn't know how to talk about those things.

It wasn't that he was trying to be unpopular or antisocial. He was an adolescent boy, after all, and wouldn't mind if one or more of the girls at his school would actually look at him. But he just wasn't athletic, or a class clown, or anything else that seemed to qualify. So since he had nothing to do after school, his parents had forced him to get a job. Which was why—

"Hi, Aaron, how was school?" Molly Pines greeted with a smile from behind the front desk, as he entered the library. Yes, Aaron was a part-time librarian. It was about the only pre-college job he wanted at the moment.

Because he had a feeling a friend of his might just be proud.

"Hey, Molly. School was the usual." He hung his backpack and jacket up in the employee cupboard, returning to the desk. "So, what am I doing today?"

"Well, we have that new girl coming in today," the woman informed him, and Aaron had to resist rolling his eyes. Training the newbie was always a pain. "I talked with her myself, Aaron, she seems alright," Molly chastised.

"Molly, can't you—"

"You're not allowed behind the desk without someone else yet," she reminded with an apologetic look. "And she'll be here any minute, so—"

"Afternoon, Molly!" An unfamiliar female voice exclaimed cheerily from behind him. Aaron turned with a scowl—

And promptly dropped his jaw in surprise. Standing before him was the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen. She was a bit on the shorter side, with the lightest shade of blonde hair- practically platinum. It was pulled back in a high ponytail that hung down to about her shoulder-blades. She wore a pair of dark skinny-jeans, a tight-fitting t-shirt, and a big, confident smile.

"This the trainer, then?" She asked, quirking a perfect eyebrow—and her eyes were a blue that sparkled.

"Yes, this is Aaron Wood," Molly introduced, and he could swear the brunette woman was secretly laughing at him. "Why don't you two get acquainted while you restock the shelves?" Aaron was brought back to reality as the full-time librarian thrust a pile of books into his arms.

"R-right," he agreed. "Er- this way." She followed him through the bookshelves as he worked to regain his composure. What was wrong with him? He didn't have trouble talking to people—but he'd never met a person this pretty. "So, uh, you're new here, right?"

"Yep," she replied with that ever-present grin and a nod of her head that set her ponytail swaying back and forth. "It seemed promising—and it's close to London."

"Yeah, that's the great thing about this place," he agreed quickly, becoming comfortable with this small-talk. "Lots of things to see in London."

"Lots of things and people," she nodded again, adding with a grin, "Sometimes twice." And though he didn't really understand that at all, he still smiled back. "Molly says you go to school in the mornings."

"Yeah," he responded again, unable to stop himself from asking with some hope, "Are you starting there?"

But she shook her head. "I'm a bit of a fast learner," she admitted sheepishly. "So I got sort-of homeschooled. Took the tests, got a degree and everything."

"Wow," was all he could say. She was pretty _and_ smart.

"Yep. But I still like to say everything I ever needed to know I learned from the best," she told him, her expression one of admiration and pride.

"Who's that?" He asked with interest.

"My dad," was the simple answer. He couldn't help wondering what kind of a genius her dad must have been if that was the case. Aaron put the last book on the shelf.

"I can show you the archive room now, if you want."

"Sounds great, archives are my favorite part of libraries. That's where you go if you're really looking for something." He couldn't agree with her more. After all, his desire to use the archive room this last summer had been what led him to meeting John Smith…and in turn, caused him to meet the Doctor.

"Are you looking for something?" He blurted the question, curious as to what that could possibly be.

She smiled this time like she was enjoying a sort of private joke. "You could say that. So, lead the way, Aaron."

He started to head for the archive room when he suddenly stopped, turning to face her in mortification and feeling like a complete moron. "I- I never asked—er, what's your name?"

She laughed, giving him some relief that he hadn't come across as rude. "Jenny. Jenny Smith."

**Uh-oh, Aaron…what have you just stumbled into now? I apologize for the lack of Doctor in this chapter. That shall be rectified in the next one. But until then, I hope you enjoyed this! Next time, we see the Doctor's companions all reunite, and we get to see what Dr. Griffiths has in store for our favorite Time Lord. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok, so straight into the next chapter! Thanks for the feedback, in particular Madwoman in the TARDIS' information about librarians. For future reference, Aaron and Jenny will be called library pages, while Molly herself is an actual librarian. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the fic!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Three**

"Clothes?"

"Check."

"Toiletries?"

"Check."

"Transport?"

Rory looked out the window. "Not here yet."

Amy groaned. The minute they'd cut off the transmission, she'd flown into action, throwing everything they might possibly need in their two bags. Her husband had followed after, folding things and packing them away neatly. Now all they needed was their ride.

She almost wished they'd asked River to swing by for them in the TARDIS, but their daughter had seemed very fragile during the conversation they'd had. Though that of course made her even more worried about the archeologist, Amy knew that she couldn't push her daughter. They'd just have to find some time alone to talk.

Amy also just wasn't sure she could face flying in a Doctor-less TARDIS yet again. She hadn't been fooling herself; she was sure the Doctor and River had been getting up to all sorts of trouble while they travelled together—judging by some of the stories they'd told when visiting this past Christmas, they'd gotten up to nothing _but_ trouble. But she and Rory had been able to rest easy knowing that the mad married pair had each other to rely on. Now their alien friend was on his own again.

A sharp honk of a horn pierced the relative quiet, and the Ponds leapt from their seats at the kitchen table, each grabbing a bag and ran out to the UNIT jeep. Perhaps the first positive thing since getting Code Thursday Afternoon, was that behind the wheel sat—

"Gregory!" Amy greeted, throwing her bag in the front and climbing into the backseat with Rory. If the young soldier minded being a chauffeur, he didn't say.

"Hello ma'am," he replied, smiling at them in the rearview mirror. After his rescue from the Sontaran spaceship, Gregory Jenkins had made a rapid recovery under the care of first Dr. Jones and then other UNIT medical staff. They kept in touch through email and the like, but it wasn't quite the same as seeing the young man. If anything gave her hope that they could beat impossible odds once again, this did.

"So, where exactly are we going and why couldn't the Colonel say so over the computer?" Rory asked.

"We don't think this is the case, but if the perpetrator works for UNIT, it could be possible that they'd tap into any sort of communications. The only way to circumvent that is by getting everyone all together. So, we're setting up base near Moorsfields Eye to start an investigation there. If we find something, we'll decide what further action to take."

"Do you think we'll find something?" She asked uncertainly. "It's been five days already."

"They might have slipped up," he answered with a noncommittal shrug, obviously unwilling to discourage her.

The majority of the ride was spent in silence, all three preoccupied with their worried thoughts. She was glad when the large, black trailer came into view, the blue of the TARDIS standing out next to it. Gregory stopped the car, but hadn't even cut off the engine when she jumped out, running to the group of friends she held dear.

"Oh Amy," Jack said, pulling her into one of his huge bear-hugs. He released her quick enough for Rory, who was also hugged by the American. By then, Amy had embraced Sarah Jane.

"I- I just can't believe it," the older woman was saying. "And of all the places to be abducted!" Amy nodded sadly, unable to come up with an explanation either.

"This one's from Martha," Mickey told her, wrapping his arms around her a moment, before pulling back to look at her. "And this one's from me." He leaned in again and hugged her.

"How're you holding up?" Donna asked when Amy reached her next. As the two redheads embraced, the older one muttered in her ear, "I tried to help- with River. But I think she needs you and Rory more than anything right now."

Amy merely hugged her tighter in response. "Thanks for trying," she told her.

"Colonel Mace wants you all for a debriefing," Gregory informed them, holding open the trailer door. So the group began to file in, but the Ponds headed for the TARDIS.

"We'll be there in a minute," Rory said to the others, following her inside the ship and shutting the door quietly. The interior of the TARDIS looked much like it had the last time the Doctor had left it indefinitely: darker and sadder. Its sole occupant was River, facing away from them in a little ball in the pilot's chair.

"River?" Amy called tentatively as she and her husband walked up the steps to the control panel. The curly-haired woman gave a start, her limbs unfolding until she was sitting properly and glanced at them with sadness and- apprehension?

"Hello mum, dad," she said quietly, none of the usual life in her tone. Amy and Rory stood in front of their daughter, neither not entirely sure what to do or say to make this better. There was so much uncertainty about this whole thing.

"We're going to find him, River," Rory promised.

"I know," she said, nodding. But they could tell she was holding back, keeping something locked away, trying to bury it.

"He'll be fine," her husband reiterated, sharing a concerned glance with her.

"Of course he will."

"But it's still ok to be upset, you know. We all are."

"Yes, dad, I know." Their daughter sniffed once before standing. "Right, wasn't someone saying something about a debriefing? We should really get g—"

"River? What's the matter? What's _really_ the matter?" She locked eyes with the older looking woman for a moment, and it seemed as though it would end in a stalemate. But then River Song crumbled.

"I yelled at him, mum!" She cried, dropping back into the chair and covering her face with her hands. "The last thing I did—and it was stupid! It was just a stupid, little fight, but I wouldn't go with him- and- and now—" she couldn't seem to continue, breaking off into harsh sobs. Amy and Rory threw themselves down on either side of the chair, wrapping their guilt-ridden daughter in a hug between them.

"You couldn't have known," Rory pointed out. "It should have been like any other argument."

"But that's the point, it wasn't!" River protested through her tears. "And the worst part of it all- the worst part—he apologized, and I ignored him! The stupidest, most pointless fight we've ever had, and I just couldn't give in." She shook with the sobs she was still attempting to hold at bay, and Amy tightened her grip on her daughter in response.

"If it's that stupid, I'm sure he understands." But it only served to increase her daughter's crying.

"I know, mum—always and completely," she choked the familiar phrase out. River swallowed and looked up at them, a look of terrible regret and sorrow coloring her every feature. "But wherever he is- whenever he thinks of me, the last thing he has to remember me by is silence and a slammed door."

The tears started to pour down her cheeks again, so Rory grabbed a handkerchief from a drawer in the console and wiped gently at her face. Amy guided her daughter's head to rest on her shoulder, and wrapped her arms around again.

"Did I ever tell you the last thing I said to your father before he got shot by a Silurian?" She felt the slight shake of the other woman's head. "I said, 'Other way, idiot!' I called him an _idiot_. And then when he got shot, it was all, 'Shush, don't talk.' Not 'I love you.'" She felt Rory take one of her hands, feeling comforted by the gesture. "And then he'd been erased from existence, and I couldn't remember him, but I cried _all_ the time. I didn't know why then, but I think maybe that had something to do with it."

"I thought about Amy a lot, when I was a Roman," Rory spoke up quietly. "But I wasn't thinking about the names she called me, or any specific thing, really. Just her. And that was enough." They smiled at each other over their daughter's head. She felt one of River's arms go around her and knew the other had to be around Rory.

"Thank you," she said. "I think I needed to hear that."

"That's what we're here for, yeah?" Amy said, and her daughter sat up, taking the handkerchief from Rory and fully wiping away the tears.

She took a somewhat shaky breath, but seemed mostly calmed down. "Ok, we're due at a debriefing, correct?" River stood, Amy and Rory following her. "Let's not keep them waiting, then." There was an unspoken 'Let's not keep _him_ waiting' in there that they completely agreed with.

The three of them made their way through the familiar layout of the trailer, which seemed a hive of activity. UNIT personnel were rushing back and forth between computers, comparing different data on papers, and a group stood on standby waiting for the order to enter the hospital. Gregory appeared to be in charge there, and he nodded briefly at her before returning to lecturing the troops. Looked like he was making his way up in this organization after all.

"Sorry we're late," she said, pushing open the door to the conference room. But the others just smiled. Jack patted the seat next to him with a grin, and River actually managed an exasperated huff before taking it. Amy grabbed the next chair and Rory slid in between her and Mickey.

"So, we're all here," Sarah Jane said on Mickey's other side, turning her expectant gaze to the UNIT officer. "What is the plan, Colonel?"

"We've been doing an extensive search of our personnel records, and so far have yet to find any doctors, past or present, with the name Charlene," he informed them. "So far, it appears she was neither employed here or at Moorfields Eye Hospital."

"What if she wasn't employed?" Donna piped up, and they all looked at her curiously. "Well, you lot have internships, don't you? Work studies? If she did one of those, she wouldn't be on your personnel list."

"That's brilliant, Donna," Jack praised, and the redhead shrugged, but there was a pleased smile on her face.

Sarah Jane appeared to be taking notes. "So, you look through records of internships and the like, then what? A search of the hospital?"

"Correct. We'll look to find any evidence of who she was, what she was planning, and where she's taken the Doctor."

"It wasn't just her," River suddenly said, and Amy's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't get a chance to say, because the Colonel pointed out the link might have been compromised, but when the TARDIS locked me in, I tried opening the doors. But on the other side, there was a man trying to get in. I didn't recognize his voice, but he said something about it 'not being fair' when she dematerialized."

"So this Charlene's got an accomplice," Mickey summarized and River nodded. "So we get people looking for a man and a woman with a captive."

"Do we think this man was working for UNIT, too?" Rory inquired.

"It's too early to tell. But perhaps the records should be searched for any former employees or interns who might have a connection," Colonel Mace noted, the investigative journalist jotting it down. "The sooner we find this security breach, the better."

"I've already taken Martha's old cell number off the official records," Mickey offered.

"And no one's going to find it if they try looking at Torchwood," Jack added.

Amy suddenly gasped. "The phone," she said quietly.

"What?" Rory turned to her in confusion.

"The phone!" She tore from the room, and from the sound of pounding footsteps behind her, knew the others weren't that far behind. Bursting back into the console room, Amy practically flew up the steps and snatched up the cell phone from where the Doctor had laid it down.

"What is it?" Sarah Jane asked, breathless.

Amy began pressing buttons, having to stop and start over once or twice because her hands were shaking. "Well, we don't have a name or anything," she said, feeling a rising sense of excitement. "But we know Dr. Charlene used a phone to contact the Doctor."

River gasped in realization as well. "Call back the last number that phoned…and see who picks up. That's brilliant, mum!"

"Number's not recognized, so definitely not someone Martha knew well," she commented, finger hovering over the call button. What would she do if someone picked up? What would she say?

Amy hit it, resolving to give this Charlene or her boyfriend or whomever a piece of her mind. It rang three times, and then, "Um, hello?" A man's voice asked.

Amy's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "Hi, Gregory," she replied, defeat coloring her tone.

"Ma'am? Is there any reason you're calling a pay phone outside the hospital?" The soldier asked in confusion, and now she could hear the sounds of people and traffic moving by. "The Colonel has our radio frequency."

"No- no reason. Sorry, Gregory, just go back to what you were doing." Amy snapped the phone shut and raised her head to meet their bewildered faces. "She used a pay phone," she announced, feeling even more anger at this mystery woman for being so clever.

The others looked just as discouraged. "Hey, it's going to be alright," Jack said softly, looking at them all. "How many times has he been captured before? I bet he's talking his way out of it right now."

"Colonel?" Gregory's voice crackled to life through the radio perched on the officer's shoulder.

"Report," the Colonel instructed.

"A couple of the men found something in the basement, sir," the young man stated. "Under a desk. It might have fallen, but I think someone hid it there on purpose." Amy and the others glanced at each other in interest, but Gregory's next statement really got their attention. "I think it was the Doctor."

"And what leads you to that conclusion?"

"Because, sir, it's a key. And I think I know what it opens." The TARDIS emitted a low, somber hum, only confirming Gregory's suspicions.

River turned away from them to place a comforting hand on the console. Rory, Jack, Mickey, and the Colonel all looked grim-faced, while Amy shared a worried look with Donna and Sarah Jane.

"I'll see if the hospital's got any surveillance footage of the basement," Mickey said, hurrying out of the ship.

"I'm going to ask around, see if anyone noticed anything suspicious," Sarah Jane followed quickly after.

"I'll look through the records for that intern," Donna announced, a determined look on her face and she marched outside.

"I think I want to get a look at that basement myself," Jack told them, heading out the door as well.

"Is there anything we can do?" Rory asked the Colonel, for the man was leaving as well.

"Nothing at the moment, but I shall inform you immediately if anything should come up," he assured them, likely returning to his office.

She knew why they'd all left. They needed things to do, something to distract them. Just like the Ponds wanted something to do, to distract themselves with. Because neither wanted to dwell on why the Doctor would ever give up his precious TARDIS key.

OoO

"—even going to do with him, Charlene? I mean, great, you got him, now what?" The agitated male's voice reached his ears slowly, sounding distant and yet he was sure the source was quite close.

"Will you cut it out with the questions, Rich?" A female snapped back, shaky and yet full of purpose. Like someone who's just tasted the thrill of doing something wrong. "Now's when we really get to work."

"Like finding a hideout with lab equipment wasn't work," the man grumbled, and he could hear their voices much better now. The man and the woman were arguing a few feet away from him, and he—

Was lying on a cold slab of some sort of metal, bound at the feet, the wrist, and the torso. He nearly opened his eyes, but a quick flutter of his lashes revealed a blinding white light was positioned above him. Best not, then.

"Oh, stop your complaining," the woman scolded. "You were just as keen on this plan as I was—"

"Yeah, _before_, when you promised me his TARDIS!" The Doctor almost gave a start at the exclamation, but managed to keep his body and facial expression relaxed, even as he felt a growing sense of panic.

Charlene and Rich…Dr. Griffiths and Butler. His abductors. So he'd been spirited away somewhere, and it was the morning? The afternoon? His brain- his innate sense of _time _–just didn't seem to be working—side effect of the chloroform. He didn't know where he was, when he was, or what was going to happen to him.

Well, at least this was new.

"You said I'd get to take that thing apart—the only time machine in existence—and see just what made it tick," Butler was saying, and the Doctor had to work to keep his breathing the slow, steady in-and-out of the unconscious. No one took _his_ Sexy apart! "Now that would be something useful," his male abductor continued, "Something scientifically founded. Not- not—kidnapping!"

He just couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer. "Oh, and stealing a TARDIS wouldn't be kidnapping?" The Doctor turned his head away from the light, and opened his eyes to see the pair of them staring at him in shock. "She's alive, same as you and me. Shame on you, Richard."

The man seemed to be having trouble coming up with a response, but Dr. Griffiths stepped forward, her eyes alight with excitement. "You're finally awake."

"I am," he replied, trying to remain confident even though he was the one tied down and she was looming above him. Butler stood off a ways, his tweed jacket tucked under the engineer's arm. It looked like a standard lab, with off-white walls and no windows. A metal table was to the side, lined with all sorts of medical instruments. Most of them looked sharp. A stand with wheels stood just to his left, with an IV tube wrapped around it and waiting for some sort of fluid bag to be attached so that it could drip down into—

"Hello, what's this?" He squirmed a bit, trying to dislodge the IV from where it had been stuck into his arm. But the medical tape held.

"I couldn't start until you'd regained consciousness—the records almost always say you're awake, and I like to minimize the variables." She went over to the table and retrieved an IV bag, hooking it up, but not letting the unknown liquid begin its journey into his system yet.

"The variables," he repeated, "of your test- that was how you put it, yes?" She nodded, and he looked at her seriously. "I see what got Richard here- he wanted a look at my TARDIS. But your motives aren't entirely clear to me, Charlene. Why are you doing this?"

"That's a loaded question," she said, pausing in her moving about and staring down at him. "When I was ten years old, Doctor, I had a best friend who was a piano prodigy. He didn't just play well- he played perfectly. He was going to be a star." She smiled wistfully, before a sad look came to her face. "But then there was an accident—he lost his hand. He could never play the piano again." He couldn't help but share in her sorrow of this boy's shattered dream.

"That's why I went into medicine," she told him. "Not just so I could help people- but so I could find cures, improve it to the point where people didn't need medicine. Because I learned, Doctor, that the medical system is as broken as any other. Research grinds to a halt and stagnates, people wait months and years to receive the care they really need. My father died last year, on the waiting list for a new heart." She had to stop and wipe at her eyes. If he could have, he probably would have grabbed her hand, but he was still trapped.

"I'm sorry," he offered, and she shook her head, obviously trying to work past her grief.

"In my efforts, I've taken jobs with all sorts of organizations, applied for grants to study abroad, been accepted into internship programs around the world. I wanted to explore every avenue." He nodded in acknowledgement, as it was sound reasoning. "So imagine the wonder I felt, Doctor, when I was sorting through old records for the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, and came across an unbelievable tale. On Christmas Day, the Sycorax attempted to invade, but were stopped by a man who lost his hand in a sword fight…and grew it back."

He froze, warily observing her as she grasped his hand and ran her fingers over every bump and curve of his.

"And that hadn't been the first time—oh no, this man could never die. On the verge of death, he'd _regenerate_ and build his body anew."

The Doctor swallowed, as his mouth had gone dry. "Charlene, regeneration isn't something you can replicate in humans- no matter how many tests you'd run. They can't—"

"I know," she interrupted him, and his mouth snapped shut as her hands trailed up his arm to his bowtie, and the human doctor slowly undid the knot like a child might unwrap their last Christmas present. "But my father died without a working heart," she undid the first three buttons of his shirt and rested a cold hand over his hammering chest. "And you've got two."

"Because I _need_ two, or else I die," he tried to make her see, real fear entering his tone now.

"And then you'll come back," she said with a smile that he had to describe in his head as positively mad.

"Yes, but- sticking my heart into someone else? That's dangerous- the chances of even finding someone compatible—"

"Is very high. One hundred percent, in fact." His eyes widened in shock. "You've never bothered to check, but maybe because of regeneration the inside of your body is incredibly compatible. Even your blood is O¯."

"The universal donor," he breathed and she nodded.

"And more than that. I did run one little test, Doctor. Just to see if my theory was right. Last year, you were placed in a UNIT med bay, and they ran some blood work on you. Just one tiny vial, but that was all I needed. Because there was also a young man, a Greyhound recovering from starvation." Gregory Jenkins, he realized, and hoped that whatever test this had been it had ended positively for the young soldier. "He was so weak they were having him sip water and feeding him with an IV tube. In the confusion of heading back to base, and Dr. Jones being given time off for her family, I stole your blood and fed it into his system."

He waited with bated breath, wishing he had bothered to check up on the young soldier so that he would know already.

"It was beyond a success. The foreign blood mixed in, assimilated, and _fixed_ him. He was eating solid food by the end of the week. Like your blood had seen what was wrong with its new body and fixed it. And he even stayed human."

"Like nanogenes," he muttered in a daze, hardly able to believe what she had revealed to him. "So you want to repeat the process again, but with more than blood." His eyebrows shot to his hairline as he gaped at her. "You're manufacturing an organ factory with me as the- as the supply."

"The stories say you're a genius," she praised.

Well, now that he knew what she was after, he at least had a trump card. "There's just one problem." She raised an eyebrow, and so he continued. "You can open me up, empty me out and harvest my organs, sure. And I'm sure the people to whom they go to would be very happy to receive them." The human doctor nodded, and he couldn't help but admire her reasoning, just a tiny bit. It took a truly insane mind to come up with this. "But you could only do it twice. I'd die, regenerate, and die one more time- but stay dead. Because that's all I've got left, Charlene. I'm a very old man."

He couldn't help but feel puzzled and a little uneasy as a relieved smile came to her face. "Is that all? Doctor, haven't you been wondering what this is?" She indicated the IV bag with a nod of her head. His eyes went back to it, curiosity rekindled. "Rich whipped it up—another prodigy, but an engineer this time. Electrical, mechanical, chemical, you name it." His gaze fell on Butler, who looked away and adjusted his grip on his jacket.

"Because I found a record of a Time Lord who did die—the Master." Even now, the name made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "But his followers brought him back with something they called the Potion of Life. It wasn't a complete success, because his widow threw in her own concoction—the Potion of Death." The story was familiar to him, but he still felt fresh guilt for Lucy Saxon- the woman who had died trying to stop his best enemy because he was too busy trying to run from his own fate.

"I put a lot of thought into that, Doctor. And also, into the regrowth of your hand. Most people think Time Lords have to change bodies when they regenerate, don't they? But that's a lie, isn't it, Doctor." He flinched under her scrutinizing gaze. "If the energy can be siphoned- or stopped after it has healed the physical wounds, it doesn't count as a complete regeneration."

"That's correct," he said softly, somehow knowing where she was going before she said it.

"This is a diluted mix of those two potions," the human doctor informed him, pointing at the IV bag. "It's designed to stunt the regeneration, to dilute it in a way, so that it stops before your body is switched. You don't have to worry about staying dead, Doctor."

"Because I'll live and die and live indefinitely," he finished for her, unable to look her in the eye and settling on staring at the IV bag instead, the instrument for his unending fate. "You're going to take everything out, bring me back, and scoop it all out again. Forever." In his peripheral vision, he saw her nod in confirmation. "I won't ever die. But I won't ever live again."

"And how long have you lived, Doctor?" She asked, and he could hear just a hint of accusation in her tone.

"Nearly twelve-hundred years," he answered truthfully, risking a glance at Dr. Griffiths and wishing he hadn't, because the reproving expression on her face was too much.

"That's more than twelve times the life of any ordinary human," she pointed out.

"I know," he acknowledged, barely able to get the words out.

"My father didn't even make it to sixty." Her hand touched down on his chest again, and he almost wished he could just rip it out, hand it to her, and see if that'd satisfy her. "And I wonder how many people, how many friends of yours died for you, Doctor—without knowing you could regenerate. How many do you think would have sacrificed their lives for you if they'd known you could withstand it?"

He shut his eyes, a fresh wave of remorse washing over him. So many dead because he—because just a body—had been in danger…Rory and Astrid and Jenny and so- so many others.

"You're the Last of the Time Lords, and you couldn't save them. But haven't you ever thought that maybe you survived for a reason?" His eyes popped open again, staring up at her. "Maybe you couldn't save them, but you can save the human race. So many people are waiting, Doctor, and dying because they can't get what they need. You fly through time and space but right here, right now people need your help. Nobody listens to their begging, their pleading. But you will, won't you?" When before he couldn't look at her, now it was as if he couldn't look away he so was captivated by her words.

"Th-this can't be right." And the spell was broken by Butler, who was pressed against the wall as though trying to melt through it, a horror-struck look on his face. Dr. Griffiths scowled, and stalked toward him.

"Oh, don't act all high-and-mighty with me—you're only having second thoughts because we didn't get the TARDIS."

"That's not true!" The man shot back defensively, but it was very unconvincing. "But, since we didn't get it, I- I don't want any part of this anymore." He nervously pushed his glasses up his nose and set the tweed jacket down.

"So what, you'll just go back to living your average life, constantly quitting your job because it's too boring for you?" She had a hand on her hip now, and Butler swallowed.

"Y-yes. I've done everything you've asked, you don't need me anymore. And I don't have any interest in this—" he waved his arm in the direction of the tied-up Doctor.

The human doctor didn't say anything for a moment. "Fine. Don't let anybody see you leave." She turned away from the engineer, who let out the breath he'd been holding and headed for the door. But the Doctor saw the look of grim determination on Dr. Griffith's face, and the flash of metal from the knife she grabbed from the table.

"Richard!" He cried in warning, but she spun about and sunk the knife into the man's back. The man yelled in pain before crumpling to the floor, blood seeping through his shirt and dripping onto the floor. Completely calm, she stood and wiped the knife clean. "What have you done?" He demanded hoarsely, unable to tear his eyes from the engineer's fallen form.

"Given him an interest," she replied, walking into another room and wheeling in a stretcher and stopping it next to him. She managed to heave the man's deadweight up and onto the stretcher. Richard's eyes were wide as he breathed in and out, ragged and pierced occasionally by another moan. "I can't have him going to the authorities. And now, dear Rich needs a new kidney, but he's got to wait in line at the hospital- if he makes it there." Her blue-gray eyes swept up from the injured man to lock on his.

The Doctor swallowed. Kidneys always were to first to quit.

**Really long, I know, but that second section needed to be perfect. I'll let you guys tell me how I did. Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Right, so hopefully I haven't scared you all off with the last chapter, because it's going to get a lot worse before it gets better…anyway, thanks for all the reviews, favorites, and follows so far, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Four**

She sighed over the heavy pounding of the rain against the building as she returned yet another stack of books to their proper place on the shelves. For Jenny, the novelty of working as a library page had quickly worn off and already she was itching to get back to travelling. But she was determined to leave no stone unturned, and this lead had seemed promising.

Sure, all the running and fighting monsters and saving civilizations was fun, but Jenny had begun wanting something more. A hand to hold onto while running. A warm, secure embrace when the monsters maybe got a bit too scary. A triumphant and very, very proud smile when the crisis was solved.

She wanted her dad.

Jenny supposed she should perhaps be holding some sort of grudge against the man everyone else called the Doctor for leaving her behind on Messaline. But she couldn't find any fault in her father's actions. He'd thought she'd died, and she'd learned in her long years of life that just acknowledging that inside was hard enough without going to the funeral.

And hadn't that been quite the shock—she couldn't die. Well, couldn't was probably too strong a word, but Jenny had been left to figure out this whole Time Lord thing on her own. She'd done her best to scrape together bits and pieces of legends, separate fact from fiction.

The most helpful source she'd yet to find was a dissertation by a River Song—dedicated solely to her own father. She'd say somebody had a bit more than a crush. But it had been where she'd first learned words like _regeneration_, _TARDIS_, and _Gallifrey_.

And that's when things had gotten a whole lot more complicated. Jenny had lived on…and on and on. Until at last she'd reached the advent of the vortex manipulator. So of course, the first thing she'd done was to steal it one off some new, green Time Agent, jump to the future for the best design, and then return the old one. Ever since, she'd been skipping around the universe at her pleasure.

She no longer just had linear space, she also had anywhere and anywhen. And that had filled Jenny with hope, because maybe—just maybe—that meant it actually was an option. To head out there and track him down. If he wasn't just going to randomly stumble across her again, then she was going to go out and find herself a dad.

Jenny wasn't even particular on which one. She'd observed his different bodies from afar, wary of getting too close and damaging their time streams, but liked them all. She'd caught little snippets, watched him age and de-age, gain and lose style, find friends and lose them. Her heart ached every time he saw that old, grandfatherly man with young Susan Foreman—because she was part of him and part of her and wanted desperately to meet the girl who for all intents and purposes was her niece. But she couldn't.

Time and experience had taught Jenny to hang around Earth- it was her father's favorite planet. The planet of humans like Donna Noble and Martha Jones, such kind women that she wanted to see again. She'd watched them from a distance as well, but couldn't step in because it was always just a bit too early. It was almost maddening, in a way.

But, there had been the one time. Just once, while rereading Dr. Song's dissertation, she'd come across a report of what was supposed to be one of her dad's 'final trips' before his death at Lake Silencio. Jenny chose not to believe those stories, though how much of it was sound logic and how much was denial she didn't even know. Regardless, she'd decided to pay a visit to the quaint, mundane area of England known as Colchester.

The little bracelet of a vortex manipulator she wore had gone wrong, however, she'd arrived a year or two off-mark. So, giving it a chance to recharge and recalibrate, Jenny had taken a walk in the park.

Suddenly, she'd been roughly knocked to the side by a man who was all wild hair, knees and elbows, and nutty professor, sprinting to seemingly nowhere. But then she'd heard it. That _vroop vroop_ she'd read about and only ever witnessed a handful of times in her life, and never so close up. The TARDIS materializing.

The man had skidded to a halt as the fantastic blue box had phased into being, and he'd thrown his arms out to push open the door. But at that moment, the door had been yanked open from the inside, a red-haired young woman hurling herself out of the ship and into his open arms.

"Amy!" He'd exclaimed, such utter joy, and relief, and concern, and happiness all conveyed with that one name. His arms had wrapped around the woman tightly, one hand at the back of her head, fingers buried in her hair- holding her there as if terrified she'd dematerialize if he let go.

"Doctor!" The redhead had replied, clinging tightly to the man's tweed jacket. Her father's tweed jacket. Another regeneration to commit to memory, then, Jenny had thought. "You did it- you really did it," the woman was repeating, obviously processing the fear and adrenaline rush of another adventure. Jenny had idly noted she had a Scottish accent.

"Amy Pond- my Amelia- oh, I thought I'd nearly lost you like—" Her father had tensed, and she'd wondered who he was thinking of but couldn't mention to the Scottish woman. "Doesn't matter. You're safe!" He'd given an exuberant burst of laughter, suddenly spinning the woman about so her red hair fanned out. Amy Pond had shrieked in surprise, but amusement as well, holding onto him tightly. But that wasn't what caught Jenny's attention.

When the Doctor had whirled about, his eyes had passed over her face—and then froze. A look of shock, like he'd seen a ghost passed over his expression, but the momentum of the spin carried him back around. And Jenny took that time to run and hide.

Looking back, she had no idea why she'd done that. He'd _known_ her. Actually known her. Exactly who she was looking for. But even though she'd felt a rush of joy, a sudden fear had clenched around her two hearts, making her flee.

He'd seemed so happy with Amelia Pond. Why would he want her anymore?

Her insecurity had cost her. This older version of her dad was harder to track, an inconvenient lack of alien invasions of Earth making him a scarcity, where before he'd constantly been popping into London.

Still, she was determined not to mess up again. Which was why she'd been so excited when she'd come across an old Earth article in the Library—before it had sealed itself, of course, she wasn't that risky—about a John Smith saving Donna Noble's life in 2014. And the picture had been a perfect match to her dad—minus the bowtie, which she found adorably tacky and very him, just like converse with a suit or a multi-colored football stadium-length scarf or a stick of celery.

She'd been searching the woman she'd met on Messaline on a whim, reminiscing, when she'd found this gem and programmed her vortex manipulator once again for Earth. Of course, she'd had to arrive later so as not to interrupt established events. But she'd settled in and was now on the hunt for clues about the enigmatic 'John Smith' and where he'd gone.

Jenny returned to the front desk, ready to take on another menial task for Molly, when she was surprised to see that the other woman was not alone. Instead, a tall, broad-shouldered man with sandy hair was leaning on the other side and talking to the brunette. Molly Pines, for her part, seemed quite happy to chat with the man.

She smirked. "Anything I can help you with, sir?" Jenny quipped, causing the two humans to jump in surprise.

"Oh! Jenny, didn't notice you'd come back," Molly laughed nervously, casting a glance back at the man, who looked a bit embarrassed by her continued grin. "This is, uh, Ron Sherwood, my flat mate. And boyfriend," the older-looking girl amended at a quirk of Jenny's eyebrow.

"Nice to meet you," she greeted, sticking out her hand with a real smile. Ron Sherwood managed one back, but it faltered when she added, "I'm Jenny Smith."

"That's a bit odd," he remarked. "The last flat mate I had was named Smith."

"It's a common name," she replied casually.

"Well he was an uncommon bloke," Ron muttered, and that got Jenny's interest. Because this was where John Smith had stayed- could it be possible she'd run right into the information she needed?

"Uncommon how?" She asked, trying to keep from sounding too curious. But Molly and Ron still exchanged uncertain looks.

"Oh, well, I mean- not _that_ uncommon. I mean, just eccentric. In a completely normal, er, human kind of way and—"

"Aaron, you're soaked!" Molly interrupted, and Ron looked almost relived. Jenny didn't have time to puzzle over that, though, because Molly was right; poor Aaron Wood was drenched from head to toe.

"It's pouring in case you haven't noticed," he grumbled, not looking at anyone, her in particular. That was the thing about Aaron. The teenager could either be very open and friendly, especially when he was being rather clever, but whenever he was at a disadvantage in a situation, he clammed up. She didn't think she'd given him a reason to be so embarrassed around her, but Jenny was beginning to think perhaps the human—nah.

"And your things must be all wet, too," Molly was fretting. "Jenny, how about you help Aaron lay his things out in the back room to dry?" She could tell it was mostly an excuse for the full-time librarian to spend more time with her significant other, but if anything this just amused her.

"Sure," she readily agreed, and followed Aaron's slouching form into the back room. "School the same as usual?" It was their routine to just check up on how the other's day had been going.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "My history teacher wants us to build a portfolio of all our work this year, so of course I bring it all with me today and it decides to rain." She couldn't help but giggle a bit at his pouting face, and Aaron even managed a smile. "Well, let's see the damage." He began taking out books, notebooks, stacks of loose-leaf paper, folders, and the like, and Jenny started sorting through them and deciding what could be salvaged. But she nearly dropped one in astonishment.

A packet labeled 'Summer Project' hadn't been too badly damaged. And that allowed her to see what the summer project had been about. The first pages were a bunch of thumbnails from a slideshow—about her dad. Jenny flipped through, seeing photos she'd already found in old records, and even some new ones.

And some were of his eleventh body. The one she knew for certain knew her.

What followed after was a short essay titled 'My Friend John Smith, the Doctor'. She almost wanted to laugh. Aaron Wood had met the Doctor. Aaron Wood knew her father!

"That's everything," the boy announced, and Jenny quickly folded up the papers and stowed them away in her pocket. Since the Doctor had already been and gone, maybe this summer project would say where he'd gone. And if not, she and Aaron were going to talk.

OoO

She'd calmly set up a tray on a stand with the tools she was about to use, removed the restraint around his torso, though it did little with his hands and feet still held down, and cut his braces and shirt away from his body, leaving only the shirt-cuffs that were tied down with his wrists. The Doctor felt goose bumps spring into life over his skin as his back made contact with the cold metal beneath him. Or maybe the goose bumps were in reaction to her selecting a large, sharp scalpel.

"Charlene," her name burst from his lips as the instrument hovered over his skin. Dr. Griffiths looked up and met his eyes. Hers were given an eerie sort of glint from the white light that shined above. Now was the time when some sort of brilliantly worded, clever speech would come to him. Some moving rhetoric about how she may be trying to do a good thing, but harming someone else was never the way.

But when it was _him_ on the operating table, well, the Time Lord was hard-pressed to think of anything through his ever increasing panic. And Charlene Griffiths did not look like a rational human being capable of being talked down—she was a woman on a precipice, looking down into the endless dark below. And he wished he could be waiting to catch her before she fell, but she'd bound him up and so was going to drown along with him.

The knife entered his skin, and the Doctor tried to close his eyes and think of something good, something better and far, far away from here. The comforting whirrs and hums of the TARDIS, the laughter of a group of people, dear friends, as they sat around a table, warm, springy blonde curls—

But _oh_, wasn't it just mesmerizing how quickly, how effortlessly she made the incision? For all his superior biology, his skin parted like butter under her skillful hand. The pain hadn't come yet, hadn't registered. Why not, he wasn't sure, because he was looking at it. _He was looking at it_.

Dr. Griffiths sucked in a breath, like the pirate about to open her stolen treasures, the robber who at last had cracked the code on the safe. The bloodied scalpel had been placed on the tray, and now her latex-gloved hands both reached out and _peeled_.

The Doctor's skin peeled open like a banana.

His head, which had been tilted down as far as possible in morbid curiosity, now thunked against the metal slab, because that really was quite enough. Never in eleven lifetimes had he really had the desire to see any of that. And yet he was being opened up like a box to see what lay within. And he wasn't bigger on the inside, because everything inside had a place, a place they needed to be, and now she was going to pluck them out one by one like a bloody bouquet.

She'd removed her fingers from the flaps of skin, the doors she'd fashioned for herself, and yet they stayed open because- he peeked –clamps pulled them taut, and pinned them to the metal table, a couple metal pins poked through for good measure like a dissection. His eyes shut again, but he could still feel it.

He could feel _all_ of it.

"Ah! –AaaahhhAH- ah- argh_hrmph_—" It started as a yelp as he felt suddenly flooded with a sensation of pins-and-needles pain crashing over him, whatever shock had been keeping them away gone. But as the pain hadn't gotten better, instead starting to build higher and higher as he felt the woman begin to poke and prod and _cut_ away at him, his little exclamation had turned into a long, drawn out moan, pierced by smaller yells.

It was when she'd looked up at him, eyes clinical and completely void of sympathy, that he'd sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. The coppery tang of blood rich in iron started to coat the inside of his mouth, he was biting so hard. If there was no chance of his wounded cries changing her mind, then his pride just couldn't allow them. She studied him a moment as he breathed harshly through his nose and tried not to writhe in agony too much, because that only made it so much worse and he just didn't know what he'd do if his gallbladder just popped out due to his squirming. That might just send a whole new wave of pain.

And yet, beneath the surface, he could feel that strange, other-wordly tingling that proceeded the fire…the fire that would course through and change him. He wondered if, for once, he might welcome that pain. That regeneration in this case might be a mercy.

But he wouldn't find out. Dr. Griffiths reached out and started the IV. He felt something icy and numbing running through his veins, stilling and suffocating everything within, until he felt he could barely move, stuck staring down at the open cavity that had been his lower torso, beneath his ribs. She'd gotten more than his kidney, what else could she want?

"I theorized that a side effect of the drug would be to keep you alive, but nearly immobile," the human doctor said aloud, the first she had spoken since this macabre operation had begun. She paused in her work to draw in another breath. "That's good," she said, as if convincing herself. Then, with greater conviction, "That's good. It gives you a chance, an opportunity, Doctor, to see just what good you're doing. This isn't just about Richard. There's a woman who's been living with a damaged liver all her life." Even if the pain had been suppressed, it was like her words caused him to feel a sort of emptiness where his liver _had_ been. It was as if now there was no chance of him responding in challenge to her, she felt free to soliloquize.

"I have contacts working in all sorts of hospitals and clinics, where they just don't have enough organs to use for transplants. Not enough donors." She laughed almost bitterly, lifting something else—his other kidney—out of him and holding it aloft like a precious stone. "And now I have the never-ending source."

He was happy for the woman with the damaged liver, glad to know that he was able to give her the one thing she needed most, but it was so very hard to concentrate on anything…he felt so weak and dizzy.

"You've lost a fair amount of blood," she remarked, more to herself than him. "But your hearts are still more than healthy. Perfect for donation." The scalpel was back, another incision made over his chest, and the Doctor found himself staring at the pale white of his breastbone.

And then Dr. Griffiths split his breastbone in two. Stronger clamps held them apart as they both stopped and stared in sheer wonder.

_Thumpthumpthumpthump. Thumpthumpthumpthump._

And though he was still mostly numb, as she reached for another instrument, he could hear and feel and _see_ his two hearts quicken in pace, in fear. As if they knew this was it, they were leaving, to be separated from him forever, never again to work in tandem. She began to work, and the blood that they were pumping ever faster caused a red, red trail to trickle from the open gashes on his lip, made by own teeth, down his chin and neck. At least, until she drained the muscled organs enough to remove them.

When at last Charlene Griffiths held his twin hearts, one in each hand, the Doctor's eyes rolled back into his head.

Burning, searing, roiling, the liquid fire was blazing through every vein, every artery, every nerve, every cell. And the flames went on…and on…and on. Slow, slow, unbearably slow, because every time he thought he was so close, another icy wave of the drugs doused the fires. So the smoke of a regeneration continued, causing him to feel an awful ache as he simmered inside. It continued so long that when the intense, terrible heat at last dissipated and passed, he was still wracked with tremors and gasping for air.

Yet there was nothing physically wrong with the Doctor. He was perfectly, one-hundred percent well, as usual, only a smudge of dried blood on his bare chest left over to prove what had happened. Even Dr. Griffiths had gone in the time that he had taken to return to the aware and the living.

But when he managed to slowly, painstakingly turn his head to one side, dropping it to the blessed cold metal, he realized just how long he had been so far gone.

Richard Butler lay on the stretcher in a hospital gown, awake and breathing in and out, evenly and controlled. The engineer was all right. He was well again.

The Doctor was sure, however, that the abject fear, the helplessness, and the dull, lifelessness of the human's eyes were a mirror of his own.

**So that was my first attempt ever of writing something like that…how did I do? Thanks for reading the chapter, and please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I'm glad you all thought the last chapter was good. I hesitate to say you liked it, because I don't think anybody likes what I'm doing to the Doctor. Ok, so, to break up the gruesome, let's go back the companions!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Five**

Amy, Rory, and River sat around Mickey who was typing furiously at a computer. It was split up into a bunch of different screens, displaying different sections of the hospital. He would play part of a section, pause it, and record what happened in a document. While meticulous and likely important, Amy couldn't help feeling a little bored. Things became more interesting when River started showing up.

"Just like I thought," Mickey murmured aloud.

"What?" Amy and River both asked at the same time.

"Well, I could tell there'd been a security breach," he explained. "Someone hacking into the camera footage. So I thought, 'Why would they need to do that?' Cause, the Doctor's nowhere on this."

"How's that possible?" Rory questioned.

"He probably got intercepted out of the camera's range and led around through some back entrance," Mickey answered. "Anyway, that leaves the question of why they'd need the security footage." He waited for it to sink in.

"The Doctor- he had the TARDIS call you back with the cloister bell—" Amy realized, turning in her seat to see the other woman struggling to remain calm.

"Because he knew I'd left the TARDIS. They used me as blackmail- no worse, a bargaining chip!"

"River, it's not your—" Rory tried, reaching out a hand, but their daughter shook it off.

"Yes it is, dad!" She snapped. "They used me to get to him—he could have fought them! He- he gave in for _me_. Why did you do it, you daft old man?" None of them could think of an answer, and River at last let her parents each place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She knew exactly what her daughter was going through. He did this time and again, letting sentiment and emotions get the better of him. How many times had he locked them in the TARDIS or sent them away when he was injured or in trouble? It always left her feeling a mixture of indignant, grateful, and betrayed emotions, torn between cursing him and crying until he came home.

When Amy finally glanced up, she found Donna Noble standing in the doorway. "I finished those intern checks," she told them with a smug grin. "And I'm _positive_ I found her."

The four of them leapt up as one and followed Donna to the computer lab of the trailer. Mickey hooked the temp's computer up to the projector screen to display what she had on her screen.

"Dr. Charlene Griffiths," Donna announced as a picture of a fairly young woman popped up. It was strange and almost disappointing how…normal this woman looked. She had dirty-blonde hair, hazel eyes, and the forced smile of someone taking an ID photo. "She worked as an intern for UNIT last summer."

"Last summer? You mean, when the Doctor used the Chameleon Arch and everything?" Rory asked, the red-haired woman nodding. "So I guess that explains where she got her interest in the Doctor from," the nurse muttered.

"Yeah, but she hasn't just done work for UNIT. This woman's been all over the world with all sorts of organizations," Donna pulled up some more photos and paperwork to prove her point. "She doesn't stay employed anywhere. It's like she's just trying them all out."

"But that also means she could probably have contacts anywhere in the world, right?" Mickey inquired. "Somewhere to lie low with an abducted Time Lord."

"What, so the Doctor could be anywhere on Earth?" Amy asked. "How are we supposed to find him?" The soldier shrugged, and looked as discouraged as she felt.

"There's some good news," Donna attempted to lift their spirits. "We know what she's interested in. Cause, these internships, all this work she's done, it's all about the same thing."

"Which is?" River prompted when the other woman didn't continue. In fact, she looked hesitant.

"Biomedical research." She said at last.

"Ok, great, so we just look in all the libraries on the planet?" Rory half-joked, his little smile dropping at Donna's shaking head. The temp bit her lip.

"Try all the laboratories on the planet. She doesn't look up things in books," Donna had to swallow before she could continue. "She- she tests things. Experiments."

"Why did she want the Doctor, then?" Amy already knew, but desperately wanted the other redhead to tell her she was wrong.

"She said UNIT had come across some alarming readings," River breathed, her eyes closing.

"What were the readings about? Why were they alarming? What tests?" It wasn't until Rory wrapped an arm around her that Amy realized she was trembling.

"I think I'll report to the Colonel," Mickey said quietly, but was blocked in the doorway by a breathless Jack and Sarah Jane.

"You'll never believe what we found out!" The brunette woman exclaimed. "An image of this 'Charlene's' accomplice." The woman had a look of self-pride on her face, motioning for Jack to step forward.

"How?" Several of them asked at once.

"Well, it was really the Captain—though his method was a tad unorthodox," Sarah Jane began to explain, but the American cut her off as he pulled out his phone.

"_My_ method? Oh, I only followed your lead, Ms. Smith! You all should've seen her," his face seemed to threaten to split in half with his grin. "All inviting smiles and batting eyelashes while she asked this one guy if he'd seen anything odd about five days ago—poor man spilled his guts in seconds. I thought an invitation to dinner would've been next, though I wouldn't have blamed him."

"Oh, well," the other woman's cheeks were a bit pink as she smiled and didn't quite meet Jack's eyes.

"Are we going to see this image, or not?" Donna interrupted irritably, and Sarah Jane jumped.

"Yes, of course! Well, this man told us he saw another man with glasses burst out of a side door to the hospital and run to this big blue box. And then the box disappeared," she recounted the witnesses' tale.

"That must have been him," River agreed, "I heard a man outside the TARDIS just before she dematerialized."

"Ok," Jack took over the story once more. "Then I asked the receptionists if they'd seen anyone like the man had described hanging about the hospital. And one of them likes to people-watch outside on her break, so she had some pictures on her phone, which she agreed to send to mine." He at last held out the phone and they all crowded around.

"Why's it say it's 'from Stacy'?" Donna interrogated. Jack smirked.

"She may have put her contact information in my phone," he admitted, before he selected one photo in particular. Even in the tiny thumbnail, however, Amy could make out clearly who was in it.

The Doctor, outside the TARDIS, was walking off with a young man who had glasses and hair gelled into spikes. The Time Lord's face was lit up with that thrill for adventure, and he even had a smile on his face. She had to be thankful for small things like this, this little image of him being happy, because she didn't want to think how he was feeling right now.

"Stacy titled the photo, 'Cute Guy'," River observed dryly. There was no doubt which of the two men Stacy had labeled as such; the Doctor was in the center of the frame.

"She did," Jack nodded before smirking at the curly-haired woman. "Do you disagree with her?"

"Not at all. Though, cute isn't the word I'd use." Her daughter was smirking back now, almost in challenge. Amy noticed Rory shift uncomfortably beside her, and felt just a little bit of pity. Her husband still tended to get just a bit awkward whenever River started flirting or talking about their best friend in such a manner.

"Oh? What word would you use, Professor Song?" Jack asked in interest, practically leering.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"I would."

"You also have it as the background on your phone," Rory cut in, obviously needing something to distract himself with.

Jack didn't look at all abashed. "I know, I set it. I'm not one to disagree with Stacy—though I'd be willing to reconsider if River presented an option."

"Ok, now I'm going to go report," Mickey shook his head, obviously having given up on stopping the flirting. But it wasn't necessary.

"Where is Smith?" The Colonel demanded, coming into the room.

"Here," Sarah Jane and Mickey replied at the same time. The woman seemed to realize her mistake and ducked her head a bit in embarrassment.

"There's been another suspected breach in UNIT's security. Our servers picked up an attempt to gain information of a classified nature. But, as a precaution, we would like to relocate your family here."

"My family? What for?" Mickey looked understandably worried.

"As far as we know, they're safe," the Colonel prefaced. "However, certain enquiries have been made in connection to your wife. This was obviously done by someone with far more UNIT intelligence than the average person has. We tracked the location to this address." The officer held out a small notebook with a very familiar street and house number.

"But," Amy couldn't keep from saying, "that's our house!"

Colonel Mace nodded seriously. "Not to worry, Mrs. Williams, we've dispatched soldiers to the location. Whoever these people are, they will be brought in."

Though they all looked about worriedly at each other, she could tell what everyone else was thinking- what everyone else was hoping for. Maybe, just maybe, Dr. Griffiths and her unnamed accomplice had made a mistake.

OoO

This was bad. This was really, really bad. She paced up and down in front of the counter, a nervous hand brushing back her side-swept bangs for the umpteenth time. And yet, Molly Pines was _laughing_ at her!

"Molly, this isn't funny! I'm really starting to think Aaron may be harboring some sort of feelings for me!" Jenny exclaimed, frustrated that the librarian did not seem to grasp the severity of the situation.

"And what's so bad about that? Aaron's a nice kid- even cute for his age," the older-looking woman pointed out.

Jenny opened and shut her mouth a couple times, not finding a suitable reply. The problem was, Molly was right; Aaron Wood was a very nice and nice-looking boy—a normal, _human_ boy. Jenny was fond of him, thought of him as a friend, but the fact of the matter was that as far as relationships went, it could never work. She didn't even want to think about how many times older than the teenager she was!

But she couldn't use any of this well-reasoned logic with Molly Pines. Why? Because Molly didn't know about her being an alien. She was starting to wish she'd just come out and told the brunette, because after reading Aaron's summer project, she realized that Molly and even Ron Sherwood knew the Doctor. At the same time, she could tell that the librarian and her boyfriend were trying to set back into a normal life, devoid of aliens. So no telling Molly, then.

Why not tell Aaron?

Well, that was a brilliant idea! Surely a human as rational as Aaron would realize immediately that any sort of relationship between them just couldn't happen, and he would drop the matter. And if she told the boy, then maybe he might have some extra information on her dad's whereabouts that he hadn't included in his school report.

So Jenny waited for Aaron's school to let out, half-dreading and half-impatient for what was likely to be a very awkward conversation. At last, the teenager arrived at the library to start his shift. As usual, he made a beeline for her.

"Hey Jenny," he greeted with a smile, and she felt awful and uncomfortable because she really didn't want to break this poor boy's heart.

"Hey Aaron," she found herself smiling back instead. After all, they didn't _need_ to talk about feelings that he may or may not have toward her right this instant. "School the same as usual?"

"Yeah," he replied as they got to work sorting paperwork in the backroom. "Although, one of the guys is having a party at his house next weekend." In her peripheral vision, Jenny saw the ginger-boy glance at her and lick his lips nervously. "And, you're supposed to bring a date."

Oh. _Oh_. Maybe they did need to talk about it right this instant.

"Well, sounds fun. I'm sure you'll have a good time," she tried, smiling at him brightly and hoping that he wasn't going to ask what she just knew he was going to ask.

"Oh- well, um, that's the, uh, that's the thing, see," he stuttered, obviously taken aback by her not picking up on his hints whatsoever. "I was, well I was sort of hoping that uh, you'd go…with me." She was still facing him, and so saw his face fall when hers did.

Jenny set down the papers she was sorting with a sigh. "Look, Aaron, it's not that I don't like you—" he snorted in disbelief, and feeling wretched for crushing this human's self-confidence she hastened to add, "It's not! It's just- well, it's not you, it's me."

"Did you pick that up from the telly?" He inquired with an almost sarcastically raised eyebrow, and she blushed a bit because, in fact, she had.

"Maybe," she admitted. "But I mean it. We wouldn't work."

"Why not?" It was almost childish, his questioning, and it only further proved to Jenny that she had to tell him.

"Well, because—" she swept her bangs back once more, reaching into her pocket with the other and pulling out Aaron's report. The boy took it, raising an eyebrow when he saw what it was.

"My summer project. What's that got to do with this?"

"Well, I just want you to keep in mind, Aaron, that you've met the Doctor." He nodded. "Who's an alien." He nodded again. "Just like _me_."

Aaron blinked. Once. Twice. "Oh."

"Yeah…" she looked away, feeling a bit self-conscious. She didn't often tell humans this early in history about her true heritage.

"_Oh_."

"Yep."

He was silent for a long time after. "That's a bit…unexpected," he managed at last.

"It can be a little weird," Jenny agreed, going back to the paperwork for lack of anything else to do.

"Yeah—but a good weird!" He was quick to amend, and she had to give him credit for trying to make her feel better. "And, you pointed out- this isn't really the first time I've met an alien."

"I read about it. Quite the story," Jenny tilted her head at his written report. And it had been an amazing story—she'd loved every minute of it, just like any scrap of information she ever found about her dad.

"So, if you're an alien, what brought you here?" He asked, and she had to admit it was a fair question.

"Well, actually, I need your help." She looked at him and couldn't help the amused grin at seeing his surprise. "You see, I'm looking for him—the Doctor. And this is the latest place I've been able to track him to."

"You want to find the Doctor? Why?"

Jenny bit her lip, trying to gauge whether Aaron was ready for this one. She didn't want to put him into shock. But, she supposed honesty might be the best policy in this case. "Well…remember when I said I learned everything I needed to know from my dad?" Aaron nodded again to show he did recall that conversation. "Well…I learned everything I needed to know from the Doctor."

Aaron blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. And a fourth time. "Oh."

"Yeah…" she said again, not coming up with anything better.

"_Oh_."

She really hoped she hadn't broken him. "Yep."

"So, he's your- but, how can—that's—_what_?" He gaped in openmouthed astonishment, and Jenny had to giggle.

"It can be hard to believe, but I am. Two hearts, I don't really age, and I'm pretty much a genius." She'd also inherited her father's arrogance, but hey, it didn't hurt to have some self-worth.

"Wow, that's- that's amazing! I didn't know—and hang on, they didn't have any kids!"

Jenny's eye narrowed. "Who's _they_?"

"Well, the Doctor- he's travelling with this woman, and—"

"Oh," she said in some relief, waving it off. "He does that a lot."

He shrugged, though she thought he didn't seem as assured by her statement. She wondered which companion he had with him now…some of them could get pretty clingy, it wasn't any wonder if Aaron had assumed. "But, I asked him if he had any family and he said he didn't."

"He thinks he doesn't," she corrected. "I almost died on this planet called Messaline, only he doesn't know that I lived. So that's why I've been trying to find him again."

"So, how can I help you with that?" He clearly seemed confused and almost stunned that an alien was coming to _him_ for help.

"Well, since this is the last place I've followed him to and he isn't here, I was sort of hoping you could tell me where he's gone to." She smiled at him hopefully, but it faltered when the teenager's face turned apologetic.

"Sorry, I don't know." Jenny dropped her head in defeat. A dead end. Well, she supposed it was back to the Library. "But there's some people who might." And just like that her head snapped back up. "Come on."

He led her out into the library and started up a computer. "There's this couple—I'm not sure what their names are, because he kept calling them Ponds, but the man introduced himself as Williams, and—"

"Ponds, yes, that's perfect," she interrupted in her joy. Amy Pond, that's what her dad had called the girl with red hair.

"Yeah, so she has a website. I can probably get their address from it—there!" He'd pulled up some page on the internet advertising perfume and with a tab for what looked like modeling pictures. "So, I guess we could get someone to drive us or—"

"Not a problem," she spoke, already tapping coordinates onto the little bracelet of a device on her wrist. When she'd finished, Jenny looked up to see Aaron staring at the vortex manipulator with interest. "It's like my own tiny TARDIS," she explained, and then smirked, "But don't let my dad hear you call it that."

"Ok," he replied, grinning a bit back at her.

"Do you want to come?" She asked suddenly, a bit surprised at her own words. Aaron looked caught off guard as well.

"Sorry?"

"Well, I don't know these Ponds, and you sort of do," Jenny reasoned quickly. "And, well, I thought maybe you might want to. I could do with the company." Travelling the universe in search of a father for years on end sort of got lonely after a while.

"Sure," he agreed, getting up. "So, does that make me your companion?"

She smiled at his almost teasing smirk. "Yes it does, Aaron. Put your hand over the bracelet." As soon as he did so, she activated it.

Jenny waited patiently as he got his bearings, looking around the unassuming neighborhood with interest. "Woah," the teenager at last said, straightening back up. "That was weird. I think I like the TARDIS better."

She wished she'd been able to fly in the TARDIS just once, so that she'd know what it was like. But Jenny merely walked up the path to the house and rang the bell. It was a couple minutes before anyone answered.

"Hello?" An older man with a watering can had opened the door, and she could tell by Aaron's confused expression that this was not who they wanted.

"Hello," she responded anyway with a smile. "By any chance, would you happen to know if Amy Pond is in?"

"Amy's out with my son," the man answered. "He said they'd be gone for a while, something about a unit."

She couldn't keep her shoulders from slumping just a bit. "Oh. Well, thanks anyway." As they walked back to the sidewalk, Jenny asked, "What now? My only lead's gone on vacation!" With her luck, the Ponds were probably vacationing with her dad.

"_Our_ lead," Aaron corrected, and he didn't seem as discouraged as her. "But, that man said something about 'a unit'. I think he meant _the_ UNIT."

"So, what should we do?" Aaron had taken out his phone, and appeared to be typing something into a search engine.

"Something really stupid. I had a friend who tried something like this once—hopefully it still works." Jenny looked over the ginger-boy's shoulder to see he had typed the words 'Martha Jones, UNIT,' into the search bar. He hesitated, and then added 'TARDIS' for good measure, pressing the enter key. "Now we wait."

It wasn't even that long of a wait. Not long after they'd sat on the curb outside the Pond house, they heard the screeching of tire wheels, and a large, black jeep came roaring down the street, followed by at least two more. Jenny didn't have time to count because uniformed men in red berets were already jumping out of the first vehicle.

"We're to take you in for questioning, any sign of struggle and we will be forced to restrain you," one soldier said, and grabbed her just a bit roughly.

"Watch it!" She chided, and felt more than a little guilty as Aaron was shoved into the backseat of the first jeep. They threw her in with him. "Wasn't really expecting being arrested," she said to him a bit tersely. Outside, she could see the man with the watering can had come out into the Pond's front yard, obviously demanding to know just what exactly was going on. But he was turned away without much of an answer as the soldiers all climbed back into their jeeps.

"Hey, you wanted to find the Ponds," Aaron muttered, the words mostly covered up by the driver gunning the engine and shooting off down the street.

"Where are we going?" Jenny called to their sort-of captors, but none of them responded. This was going to be a long drive.

They ended up somewhere in the vicinity of London, and the jeeps pulled up to what looked like—a hospital? Parked outside the hospital was a large, black trailer, likely also belonging to UNIT, and—

Jenny gasped. The TARDIS. Right there, before her very eyes. She'd seen it before, but she couldn't help the thrill that went up and down her spine at the thought that her dad was here. Had to be here.

A large, almost random group of people were gathered outside their jeep, and she felt another wave of happiness and excitement—because there was Donna Noble and Martha Jones! The redhead woman looked just the same as ever, if a bit tense, while the other woman was holding a baby, standing next to a man who had to be her husband with another slightly older girl in his arms. She could barely wait to get out there and see these two wonderful women again. But they opened Aaron's door first.

The teenager tentatively clambered out, clearly not appreciating the grip one of the soldiers maintain on his arm. The group of people, Donna and Martha included, all had mixtures of shock and bewilderment on their faces. "Aaron?" More than a few of them asked aloud.

Now it was her turn. As soon as Aaron had moved away from the jeep's entrance, Jenny hopped out without assistance. "Thanks for the ride, boys," she said with a grin, stretching her limbs and relishing the baffled looks on everyone's faces.

"Oh my God!" Martha exclaimed in a hushed voice, staring unwaveringly at her.

"_Jenny_?!" Donna found her voice, and found it at full volume. Oh, she'd missed them.

"Nice to see you, too," she couldn't help but laugh a bit, but still her eyes darted to the TARDIS. "Where's dad?"

**UNITs going to have some explaining to do…as is Jenny. That'll be next chapter, though. So, once again thanks for the feedback, follows, and favorites. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, and please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Well, after the over-whelmingly awesome response I received for the last chapter, I just had to write more! Seriously guys, I'm so grateful for all your feedback! I know a couple of you were disappointed we didn't see any of the Doctor last chapter, but now that Jenny, Aaron, and the companions are all together, I can split the chapters between them and the Doctor. So, I hope that is acceptable. At any rate, on with the chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Six**

Jenny. _Jenny._ THE Jenny. His Jenny…

River felt she just might go weak in the knees. Bracing a hand against the side of the trailer, she only distantly registered her mother's concerned glance. But Amy soon turned her focus back to the blonde girl, which allowed her more time to her thoughts.

Jenny, the generated anomaly, the Doctor's daughter—her husband's daughter. She'd only ever asked about her once, on one of those quite nights in the library, him holding a book in one hand with his elbow propped on the arm of the couch because her head was in his lap and he was using the other hand to comb through her curls. She'd looked up from her own novel and asked, because that's how you got the Doctor to answer a question. No hinting, no beating around the bush, just point blank so he couldn't come up with a lie to hide the damage. In his own words, Jenny was—

"Brilliant. No, better than that. She was amazing…and it was too late before I realized it. Before I—" he'd swallowed and fallen silent for a very long time, his hand stilled in her hair. She'd gone back to her reading, and felt his fingers leave her curls and heard them flip another page of his book. As he'd done so, very quietly so that it might have even been imagined, she had heard him murmur, "Loved her."

And yet, there she was, a confident grin on her face, platinum blonde hair in a high ponytail waving in the breeze, and blue eyes that sparkled with time and its mystery. Oh, he'd be so proud.

But there was the rub. This amazing girl was asking for her father. Which meant she didn't know.

"It's really you," Donna breathed, and as it seemed to sink in, the redhead rushed forward and threw her arms around the girl. Martha wasn't far behind. "Oh my—you're alive!"

The UNIT doctor was checking the blonde's pulse, as if trying to process what was right in front of her. "But that's not possible…You- we _saw_ you—and they were going to hold a funeral!"

"I sort of woke up in the middle of it," Jenny laughed, hugging Donna back just as tightly. "Been travelling on my own ever since. But I sure am glad to see you two. How long's it been since you saw me? Quite I while, I guess," the girl nodded in indication of the baby still nestled in Martha's arms, and the woman smiled warmly.

"It has. Jenny, this is Michelle. And Mickey's holding Mandy."

Jenny frowned in confusion. "I thought his name was Tom something-or-other." River glanced over at Mickey to see the man make a face at the mention of Martha's ex-fiancé. Dr. Jones chuckled.

"Tom and I didn't get married. But I met Mickey afterward—"

"We're towing the Earth back in the TARDIS, and those two are making googly eyes at each other across the console!" Donna remarked, pulling back out of the hug, but still gripping the girl's arms. Martha flushed a bit in embarrassment, but didn't argue with the temp.

"Aw, that's so sweet!"

"If we could stop the festivities a moment!" Colonel Mace barked at last, and everyone fell silent, Donna stepping away from Jenny. "Thank you," the officer said in his normal volume. "Now, I recognize our first culprit- and I trust you have a satisfactory explanation, Mr. Wood." Aaron grimaced, and River had to wonder what exactly the boy was doing here. "But Dr. Jones and Ms. Noble seem to be the only ones with knowledge of the second. The rest of us would appreciate an introduction."

"I know I'd like to get introduced," Jack commented with a smirk, but for once River didn't tag along.

"Captain, really stop this time. He _will_ kill you." It seemed only fair she give him a warning, after all.

"Who will? And who is she?" Amy asked, looking annoyed as she always was when out of the loop.

"And how do you know her?" Rory added, looking from her to the girl. Jenny, for her part, was staring at her curiously.

"I don't know her," she answered truthfully, "but I know _of_ her."

Donna and Martha shared apprehensive glances, looking at her, the Colonel, and then at Jenny. "Well, after the Sontaran's attempt to turn the Earth into a sort of Clone World with the ATMOS devices, the TARDIS took us to this planet called Messaline," Martha started to explain. "We didn't know why and he couldn't stop it, but the Doctor said it was an endless paradox, because—"

"Oh, she's his daughter!" Donna burst out impatiently. River winced.

"Oh my," Sarah Jane breathed.

"Sorry?" Mickey blinked.

"His what?" Jack gaped.

"_Daughter_?" Her father looked half-shocked, half-murderous.

"Oh my God," Amy slumped against the trailer, eyes wide and staring at nothing. "I'm a grandmum." She'd been afraid this would happen.

"No, mum, dad, it's not like that," River started, but Rory gave a harsh laugh.

"And that's supposed to make us feel better how?"

"If you'd let me finish!" She snapped, and they both looked at her. River took a calming breath. "Ok, when the Doctor landed on Messaline, the humans there forced his arm into a Progenation Machine. It takes biological information from _one_ organism and rearranges it to make another. She's _his_ daughter. See?" She offered her mother a smile and Amy returned it shakily, managing to stand on her own once again.

"Think I can handle that, yeah," she responded, and Rory nodded.

"Figures the Doc can take the most intimate, emotional of things and break it down into _science_," Jack snickered, shaking his head in amusement.

"And how is this not in our records, Dr. Jones?" The Colonel had an eyebrow raised at the woman.

"Oh, because having information about him in your records has been a good thing so far?" Donna retorted, scowling at the officer.

"When we were on Messaline, Jenny got shot. We thought she'd died…I didn't really see why anyone needed to know, sir," Martha said, not looking at all apologetic.

"Well, all I want to know is where my dad is," Jenny finally said, seeming exasperated with the lot of them. "Not that difficult a question, is it?"

"That is his TARDIS, right?" Aaron added when none of them said anything. Instead, they were all looking around at each other, no one wanting to say.

"Jenny," Donna started, her face taking on a softer look. "I think- I think maybe you might want to sit down. Let's get you inside, all right?" The temp started to lead to girl to the trailer, but the blonde stepped away.

"Why? What's wrong? Why can't you just tell me?"

"Because we don't really know where he is," Martha finally gave up. "The Doctor's been abducted, and we're looking for him, but so far—"

"Abducted! Why?" The poor girl looked horrified, and Aaron Wood was not doing much better beside her.

"We're still trying to figure that out," the UNIT doctor admitted, shrugging helplessly when Jenny turned away.

"Ok, well, I- I'll just have to keep looking, then. I've got a vortex manipulator—"

"Lucky," Jack muttered.

"I can just jump forward, find him again."

"And what if you find something you don't like?" River questioned, and the girl snapped her gaze back to her. "Time travel's tricky, Jenny…he might be in serious trouble right now, but there's still a chance we can find him. If you jump forward and find out he's—" she broke off at the stricken look on the blonde's face, and because she couldn't bring herself to say it. "Then there's nothing we can do," she said at last.

Jenny frowned, taking her hand away from the device on her wrist. "How do you know all that?" Because bless her, just like her father, she hated to be proved wrong. "Who are you?"

River took a breath, feeling at once excited and nervous at the same time. She'd never thought she'd get to meet Jenny, never thought it even remotely possible, but now here it was. She did her best to smile as she came forward. "I'm River Song."

The girl's eyebrows rose as a look of recognition dawned on her face, but how was that even possible if the Doctor hadn't even _met_ her when Jenny was born— "The woman who got a doctorate in my dad?" Oh, she could practically _see_ Jack's laughter dancing in his eyes. "So you actually know him?"

"We go way back, but not as far back as when you knew him."

Jenny nodded, seeming to grasp that just fine. "So you were travelling with him?"

"I was," she answered, somewhat hesitant. But it wouldn't be fair or even kind to keep this from her. "I'm also married to him."

"Married?" Jenny's jaw dropped, and River merely nodded. "Married! He got _married_?" She almost wanted to flinch at every repetition of the word, so great was the girl's shock. "But he—married! My dad- I—_what_?" The blonde was shaking her head, backing away from her until she hit the jeep and gave a jolt of surprise so very like him. Jenny spared her one last glance before ducking around the jeep and running off.

"Jenny!" Aaron called after, but River merely hung her head. The Doctor had been absolutely appalled at the very suggestion when he'd first met her in the Library. How could his daughter be any different?

It didn't keep it from hurting, though.

"I think perhaps we should be getting you transport home, Mr. Wood," the Colonel said at last.

"Oh," the boy's shoulders slumped. "Ok, um, tell her- tell her to give me a call, ok? And- and keep me updated! I want to know when you find him!" The teenager was led off, and the others began to move about their business again, awkwardly avoiding her eyes. But not her parents.

"That, um, could have been better…" Rory started, wilting slightly under the glare Amy shot him.

"Why's she so upset?" Her mother asked instead.

She sighed and looked up again. "Imagine you got separated from your family for a long time, and when you came back it was like they'd completely moved on and forgotten about you. Where would you fit?"

"Oh," Amy said, looking a bit ashamed for asking the question in the first place. "Well, I mean, he sort of has, hasn't he? I've never heard him mention her, he said he didn't have kids—"

"He thought she'd _died_, mother!" River exclaimed. "You know him—he may seem like an open, friendly man, but the Doctor is a very private person. He never talked about her because he couldn't—Couldn't bare it."

"Yeah…I just wish he'd realize he can talk to us." River sighed, beginning to walk away. "Where are you going?"

"To do the same thing I'd do to him—make him talk." She went around the jeep and a little ways, finding the girl crouched behind a low wall with her arms wrapped around her knees and her chin resting on top, looking completely miserable. "Mind if I sit down?"

"…no." River settled in next to her, waiting for the other to start. "Sorry- I didn't mean to be rude," Jenny said at last. "I guess I never thought- I never thought he'd—"

"He'd what? Move on? Forget you? Replace you?" Jenny nodded, and she sighed again. "Jenny, you've been looking for your father for a while now, correct?" When the girl nodded again, River continued. "And I'm sure you've learned all about him, all his past friends…and family."

"I've seen Susan a couple times," the girl admitted, "Never talked to her, but she seemed- really nice."

"Do you think he's forgotten her? Do you see yourself as a replacement?" River hid her smile at the way the girl looked up indignantly.

"Of course not, he loves her! Oh!" Jenny's eyes widened in realization, and River allowed her grin to appear as the girl's face turned red and she ducked her head. "I guess this is the part where I see how silly I'm being."

"It's not silly," she reassured, feeling bold enough to put a hand on the girl's arm. She didn't pull away. "But yes, he loves her. Just as he loves you. Even if he doesn't talk about you always. If he talked about every single one of the people he's ever loved—"

"He'd never be able to shut up," Jenny finished with a grin of her own.

"Yes," River chuckled. "You and I both know that. And you know we can't ask him to forget them or simply replace them, we just do our best to keep him moving. He'll keep finding new people to love, each in their own way. We all hold a place in his hearts." She smiled warmly at the blonde girl. "And just like there's never been another Susan, there's never been another you."

She could tell how much the girl had wanted to hear those words. But Jenny still frowned sadly. "You must hate me for busting in all of a sudden, though."

River shook her head. "I'm only worried how you might feel about me. It's not every day a girl finds out she has a stepmother."

Jenny laughed. "It's unexpected," she confessed. "But…I'm not mad. I just wish—I thought I'd finally caught up to him. When I saw the TARDIS…and I could hear that heartbeat." River wrapped her arm around the girl's shoulders, and Jenny leaned in, resting her head against her chest. "But it's yours…he thought he was the only one."

"I know," River said softly, remembering only too well how lonely her husband had been for far too long. Now he had her…and if they found him, he'd have Jenny, too.

"Dad taught me never to use a gun," Jenny murmured, before her tone grew steely. "But if he's hurt when we find him, I might just have to."

"Oh Jenny," River said, tucking a strand of the girl's hair behind her ear. "You and me both."

OoO

He pushed the cart in, the trundling wheels sounding much too loud in the otherwise silent room. But he jumped when he saw that the other was awake.

Richard felt frozen in the doorway by unfathomable eyes. They swirled between blue and brown and green, but always _always _stared at him. The Doctor stared at him.

The alien—but was it fair to call him alien, call him foreign when a part of _him_ was tucked away inside Richard Butler, inside so many now? The man, then, watched as he wheeled the cart in fully, bare chest rising and falling steadily. Richard tried not to notice how he was shivering in the cold. All it did was make him shiver.

Instead, he dipped the spoon into the bowl of soup, trying to keep his nervous twitching down to a minimum so as not to spill, and held it to the Doctor's mouth. The first few times he'd tried this, the Time Lord had refused, to the point where Charlene had had to pump in more drugs to slow the bright energy that had swirled around the failing, starving body.

Now, the man's mouth opened and allowed him to tip the contents inside. He waited, looking away as the prisoner-patient gagged and struggled to swallow the hot liquid while on his back. Those strange, terrifying eyes were watering when Richard turned back, and he was coughing most pitifully. But they only repeated the process again and again, until the bowl was empty.

Though not doing much in the way of physical action anymore, the Doctor's breathing was still labored by the end and his eyes were sliding shut. As quiet as he could, Richard took this as his moment to escape, and began wheeling the cart back out.

"Richard." It was low and quiet and barely there, he could have kept going, but his head darted up instinctively to meet those thrice-damned eyes. They seemed to pierce through him with how _warm_ their gaze was. "Thank you."

He felt his insides twist almost painfully and wondered for a panicked moment if that was the alien's work—he was controlling his kidney from the inside. But no, these feelings were his own wretched doing. He hated dealing in people- machines, give him nuts and bolts, chemicals, any sort of real science.

Richard looked this way and that, irrationally fearing that Charlene might come in at any moment. But she was out…and he didn't think the Doctor would be thanking either of them when she returned, if she got what she was after.

"I just wanted the ship!" He hissed, for some reason feeling the need to defend himself against a helpless man. "I wasn't to have any part in—this. All I wanted was the ship!"

The Doctor chuckled, though he didn't seem to find anything the engineer had said funny. "I'm glad…" he paused for breath, "it's me on this table…instead of her." And those eyes—stop it, stop looking, stop judging, stop stop—they saw him and saw through him completely. "Richard Butler…stuck with me, eh?" He smirked even as he wheezed out another laugh, and those eyes nearly sparkled with something—and Richard couldn't take it, couldn't take those eyes anymore. Not in that head, with that body laid out on the table, and _those eyes might do better in someone else's head_.

He eyed the knives and scalpels on Charlene's table. That spark in the Doctor's eyes died.

When the human doctor returned to find Richard's little project, she calmly patted him on the head, got to work so as not to waste a go-around, and afterward gave him a present, as she called it. The sonic screwdriver, surely enough to satisfy his curiosity. He eyed it in wonder.

But as he watched golden energy settle, and empty sockets fill behind closed eyelids, Richard knew he'd only gained a brief respite from those eyes.

And when he activated the screwdriver, its high-pitched whirr sounded awfully close to a familiar hoarse scream.

_"I forgive you!"_

OoO

Charlene fidgeted nervously in her chair as she waited outside the office of Dr. Kenneth Jeffries. So far, things had been going perfectly, but of course, she'd likely have to start lying low soon as things were.

But not if this part of her plan played out the way she wanted. Dr. Jeffries was an expert surgeon, very rich, and had a vast network of connections. It didn't hurt one of those connections had been with her father. If all went accordingly, Charlene wouldn't have to hide out anymore.

Dr. Jeffries, however, was known for being a stickler to the rules. Not because of any strong moral reason, but more because he didn't wish to end up losing his reputation and career over scandal. She had to handle this very carefully.

Charlene felt, though, that convincing the good doctor was something she could do. After all, she wasn't doing anything expressly _wrong_. There were no laws against operating on aliens. There were no laws on aliens, period.

And operating was all she was doing. Operating on an eternal, never-to-die body belonging to a Time Lord who was known for saying he'd lived too long. Getting much-needed organs to those who'd barely lived at all compared to him. And how was that even fair, the ancient alien who didn't die, didn't need sleep, didn't get sick, didn't get old, didn't have _weakness_. Flying about the universe while they all withered and died.

He claimed the human race was his favorite. Well, she was helping him ensure the human race continued on.

"Dr. Jeffries will see you now," the secretary announced, holding open the door. Charlene jumped, coming out of her thoughts, and slowly got to her feet. It was now or never. She nodded politely at the other woman and entered. The office was big and well-furnished, bookcases lining one wall. Behind a large, oak desk sat Kenneth Jeffries, a large, cherry-faced man with thinning blonde hair. At one time he'd had a mustache, as evidenced by the wedding photo sitting on the polished desktop.

His face split into a pleasant smile as she walked in. "Charlene, how nice to see you! I was surprised when I got your call—I'd thought you were in Morocco."

"I haven't told many people I'm back in the country, yet," she hedged, shaking his hand across the desk. He gestured for her to take the chair in front of it, and they both sat down.

"Well then, what can I do for you?"

She took a breath. "Dr. Jeffries, when I last spoke to you, after my father passed away," he nodded solemnly and she had to blink back tears at the memory, "we both agreed there is a serious problem with the current organ-transplant system."

"Yes, nowhere near enough donors," the man agreed sadly, shaking his head. "People have to wait—sometimes too long."

"Well…I think I've found a solution." She hesitated as he raised an eyebrow in interest. "I was doing an internship with UNIT at the time, and I found—"

"Oh Charlene," he interrupted, an annoyed grimace on his faces. "What good's UNIT going to do? All they are is a place to play soldier and act important and secretive! The only sensible one of the lot is that woman in scientific research," he grumbled.

"Yes, I agree they're doing things all wrong," she said in an attempt to placate him. She'd known this might be a rough patch. But she'd also known Dr. Jeffries' disdain for UNIT might be just what she needed. "In fact, they've been right on the edge of the most significant breakthrough in medical history for decades. I decided to take the matter into my own hands."

"Charlene…" he said with a slight frown, but she couldn't let that feeling set in.

"What if we didn't have to worry about there not being enough organ donors anymore, Dr. Jeffries? What if people didn't have to wait for their name to come up on a list, in pain and dying? What if—" she glanced down at the other framed photograph on his desk, which the man's eyes had kept darting to throughout their entire conversation. A young woman, smiling, with the same blonde hair. It was at least a few years old, probably as he chose to remember her, before she'd become an alcoholic. "What if I could replace your daughter's liver with absolutely no chance of rejection- today?"

Kenneth Jeffries stared at her in shock, before his gaze dropped down to the photograph for a long time. At last the father looked up and leaned forward.

"I'm listening."

**Uh-oh…things aren't going so well for the Doctor. But at least Jenny's bonding with her new stepmum! And what is Dr. Griffiths planning?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the long wait, guys. I was on a school trip the entire weekend and just got back a couple hours ago. So now, of course, I'm going to work on the next chapter to make up for it! Thanks again for all the reviews, follows, and favorites, and I am also incredibly thankful to TLCer for adding this story to her C2! It really means a lot, and all your support inspires me to continue on with the fic, so another big thank you and I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Seven**

"We're here, sir."

Gregory nodded once as the Private shut off the jeep. Stepping out of the vehicle, he waited as the other soldiers fell into formation. All were grim-faced and silent, and he silently admired the efficient way they handled themselves. With a final nod, he signaled for them to march.

Colonel Mace had only placed him in charge of this small detachment five months ago, after a promotion. 2nd Lieutenant Jenkins now worked hard drilling and training the men, trying to inspire loyalty and strong morals. So far, he was proud of his work.

But today was not practice. They had been given a very important assignment, one he was determined to succeed at.

The soldiers filed up the stairs of the building and into a narrow hall, Gregory leading them to a stop outside the door of the apartment belonging to Dr. Charlene Griffiths, suspected kidnapper of the Doctor.

He rapped sharply on the door. "Dr. Griffiths? This is UNIT. If you are in, open the door or we will enter by force." There was no response.

Gregory motioned a burly Private forward who kicked the door in. Immediately, Gregory and five of the soldiers hurried in, guns raised.

"Fan out, search the entire apartment," he ordered. Gregory had known this was likely to yield little results, but if they could find some small clue, some hint as to this woman's whereabouts, it would be worth it. Anything would do at the moment. Finding the Doctor was a very difficult task at the best of times. When the Time Lord was not in control of the situation, however, it was even more so.

For one thing, the public could never know of the existence of their alien ally. The fear inspired by the 'hoaxes' over the past decade would make most people hostile to the idea of an extraterrestrial mad man flying wherever and whenever on Earth in a little blue box.

On the other hand, there would be those tempted to take advantage of the Doctor's foreknowledge and his access to future places and technology. Paradoxes would be created all over the place by future inventions never being invented because they'd been brought back into the past. World leaders would make decisions based on outcomes they'd seen, thereby changing those outcomes.

And that was to say nothing on the havoc that could potentially be wreaked on the past. All the battles and wars never lost, the people never born or who didn't die when they should. A world where everyone knew their selfless hero would fall into chaos.

Ignoring all that, there was even the issue of the Doctor himself causing a paradox. Since no one, not even Professor Song, knew every place and time the alien had travelled to, an earlier version of him could visit, see the notice that he had been abducted and endeavor in the future not to be abducted, thus causing his younger self not to see the notice in the first place.

This had all been explained by the Doctor's various friends and family, yet it was still somewhat dizzying for him to think about. Gregory stopped his search of Griffiths' desk in order to look more closely at a framed photograph.

Their suspect was at the bedside of an older, frail-looking man. They both wore smiles and had the same eyes.

Those eyes—Gregory felt he had seen those eyes before, in a half-haze like a haunting dream, watching him hungrily. He hoped for the Doctor's sake that the Time Lord was not at the mercy of such eyes.

Though it had not _really_ been him, just a plastic shell imbued with his consciousness, Gregory could not forget the look on the Doctor's face as he'd begged and pleaded with him to get on the teleport with him and Molly Pines. He'd been an Auton, a puppet of the Nestenes, but the alien had still wanted to save him. And his brother, Ross, he had befriended his brother in a few short hours and been the only one to try and save him and the other men from the Sontarans. How could anyone hold any ill will or cause any harm to such a compassionate man?

"Sir, we've gathered everything for Evidence to look at," the Private from before announced, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Very well. Take this, too," he handed over the framed photo, "And then we'll head back to base to report."

He wasn't looking forward to giving this less than satisfactory report to the Colonel, but he was looking forward even less to having to tell Amy and the others. Seeing the disappointment on her face every time they hit a dead end hurt. He considered her and her family good people and good friends. Letting them down just wasn't an option.

A branch of UNIT in Morocco had been deployed to Dr. Griffiths' last known place of employment. He could only hope they would have better success.

OoO

"My God, Charlene!" Kenneth Jeffries could barely believe the sight before him. Yes, when the young female doctor had led him down into a bunker of a basement and used three separate keys to unlock a heavy metal door, he had felt slightly suspicious. But this was the absolute last thing he had expected.

A man, chest bare and wide awake, was strapped down to an operating table, hooked up to an IV holding some sort of mystery concoction. It was with some small relief that he realized the unidentifiable liquid was not currently being fed into the man's system.

"Well hello." Kenneth thought perhaps under different circumstances, the greeting might have been more cheery. As it was, this strange captive was thin to the point of skin and bones, his cheeks hollowed out, and exhaustion set into every line of his body.

"H-hello," he stuttered back out of conditioned response, before coming back to his senses. "Dr. Griffiths, what is the meaning of this?"

"It's simple," and suddenly the young woman he had watched grow up seemed very cool and detached as she walked over to the tied-up man. "This is the source of the organs."

"_What?_"

"UNIT's been hiding this for decades, Dr. Jeffries. An alien built almost completely compatible to humans, who can be operated on infinitely. But I think you should hear it from him. Ask any question you like." She seemed to be perfectly calm, like nothing about this situation was odd whatsoever.

Kenneth took some time to collect himself. "Who are you?"

"The Doctor," the man seemed happy to answer.

"The Doctor?" He repeated incredulously. "I asked for a name."

"And that is my name," was the patient reply, as if he had explained this thousands of times before.

"That's not a name."

"Yes, humans have names," Dr. Griffiths interceded, "And he is not human. He's an alien."

"Are you really?" He had to hear it from another's lips. He had always thought of UNIT as pure nonsense, an absolute waste of time. And yet they'd potentially contacted alien life! So like their own.

"Yes."

"B-but that is ridiculous, he's a man plain as day, anyone can see that!" He protested, for really, wouldn't an alien be different from them, wouldn't there be some sort of defining characteristic that would make him _not human_?

"If you'd like to listen?" Charlene took a stethoscope and placed the one end over the man's heart. Somewhat dubiously, Kenneth placed the ear-buds in his ears.

A normal, steady heart rate. Then Charlene moved the stethoscope to the right side of the man's chest and he heard—another normal, steady heart rate.

"Two hearts," he breathed, stunned at this revelation. _Not human_.

Charlene smiled, satisfied her point had been made. "You see? He's of an alien species that's completely extinct aside from him. Yet UNIT's been allowing him to go gallivanting around the universe into all sorts of dangerous situations. The last known survivor of Gallifrey and they constantly risk his demise."

"So you're saying he should be kept here…where we remove his organs to give to other people? Then we would be the cause of his extinction!"

"We wouldn't," she countered, "In fact, I've removed several of his organs, and as you can see he is still alive."

"How?" He was absolutely astounded by this assertion. There were no incisions or even sewed up parts of skin anywhere. He couldn't even begin to see how this was possible.

"She won't let me die," the alien stated.

"It's not my doing," Charlene disagreed. "This alien has another abnormality compared to humans. As soon as he is close to death, he uses an energy to restore himself, which I've learned to control through this." She pointed at the IV bag and he looked upon it with new wonder. "They call the process regeneration, and as his body restores so do his organs. And his organs are compatible with every single human."

"You could never run out of supply- a limitless amount of organs for the entire planet!"

"You _do_ see! I knew you would," she gushed, sharing in his amazement as they stood over the alien.

"Yes, there's just one thing I don't understand," Kenneth spoke in an attempt to calm his euphoria. This was indeed one of the most incredible medical breakthroughs the world had perhaps ever seen. "Why exactly are you in hiding?"

She bit her lower lip just for a moment, enough to make him slightly apprehensive. "Well, I had to get him away from UNIT—"

"Charlene!"

"But he understands now! He agrees with me, don't you, Doctor?" She sounded desperate and it took him a moment to realize she was addressing the alien. Dr. Griffiths had grasped one bony hand still held down to the table and something unreadable to Kenneth passed between the human and alien. "Doctor," she prompted, "This is Dr. Kenneth Jeffries. He has a daughter, not even twenty-five, and her liver is damaged beyond repair. She's in the hospital right now because her body rejected the transplant they attempted to give her. If you don't help her, this man will lose his only child." He felt tears prick at his eyes just at the thought of it. His dear, sweet Lauren. There was nothing they could do, the doctors had all said. But if…

"Please." He only realized he had been the one to speak when the alien's eyes snapped up to meet his gaze. "Charlene said your kind is dead, and maybe my troubles seem insignificant to yours. But Lauren- she's all I have."

It seemed an excruciatingly long time as Kenneth held the alien's stare, and finally the protruding chin trembled as he nodded once.

"Excellent," Charlene said, already turning to her tools. "Dr. Jeffries, I can count on you once Lauren is well to work towards securing a facility? There are countless mothers, fathers, and children who might go without a loved one if I'm confined to this tiny basement."

"Of course," he agreed, unable to believe that his daughter, his only daughter would soon be well.

It took even less time than normal, and his sweet Lauren was up and about before anyone- except perhaps Dr. Griffiths in her basement –had expected. So Kenneth soon found himself in talks with some of his most influential, powerful friends.

After all, this Doctor was just an alien, a remarkable alien discovery who had consented to be utilized for the sake of human progress. Just as Charlene had said, he had a duty to other fathers and their families to help them. How could he, in good conscious, ignore his Hippocratic Oath to help and heal people- humans –by failing to explore this new resource, this new technology? Dr. Kenneth Jeffries owed nothing to a—_not human_—alien.

He repeated this to himself as he knocked back his fifth glass of brandy.

OoO

Amy was waiting and waiting and waiting for so many things. She was waiting for River to return with Jenny, the Doctor's- daughter. She was waiting for Gregory to return with hopefully good news from UNIT's search of Dr. Griffith's apartment after an investigation of Moorfields Eye had proved futile. She was waiting for Mickey to finish running Griffiths' accomplice's face through UNIT's database.

And she was waiting and waiting for him to just come home already, the stupid Raggedy Man.

Privately to herself, Amy admitted that waiting for the Doctor never got easier. Whether it was those twelve long years—which then turned into fourteen after a brief respite, where she'd barely known him and yet held a sort of love for him that was different from what she felt for Rory and yet still strong, or those two years he'd been 'dead'. She was constantly filled with an aching, nagging dread that had only gotten worse the more and more she'd come to know him and love him as her best friend, as her family.

She realized all the others here were just as worried—and she didn't want to even think about what it must be like to be Jenny, to have such a wonderful man for a father and then have him ripped away from her—but at least almost everyone else was doing something. Did anyone ever give Amy something to do? No, because she was upset, she was fragile. Maybe she was upset and fragile because all she was allowed to do was sit and wait and think about what might be happening to the Doctor at the moment.

She didn't like what Donna had said about experiments. Amy wasn't naïve, she had an idea of what the other redhead had meant, but she was trying to keep from letting it really sink in. Oh, the whole John Smith debacle had been better than this!

A beep from Mickey's computer got her attention. She raced over, placing a hand on the back of his chair and leaning in over his shoulder.

"You got a match?"

"Yep. Richard Butler, a certified genius of engineering. But this guy's been everywhere- look at all the places he's worked. And quitting them one after another like that." He was scrolling through a list of what could be considered a résumé.

"He didn't quit that one, it just ended," Amy pointed out, using her finger to indicate it. "Hang on, Torchwood. That says Torchwood."

"It does!" Mickey agreed. "Good job spotting that, we should—"

"I'll get him!" She was already tearing from the room. She found Jack in another computer lab, typing away with Mandy on his lap. "Jack, we found a match."

"Great!" He turned in his chair toward her, careful to keep the little girl steady.

"Yeah, but his name's Richard Butler and he worked for Torchwood."

The Captain's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "What?" He stood and tucked the girl under his arm like an American football player, causing Mandy to giggle at the sudden movement. Jack then hurried with her back to Mickey.

"Hey, there's my girl!" Mickey greeted his daughter with a smile before turning more serious. "Jack, Richard Butler is an engineer, and he worked with Torchwood back in the mid-2000s…at Canary Wharf."

"Damnit," the Captain swore uncharacteristically for him, which was already cause for alarm. But Amy focused on something else.

"Jack!" She admonished, taking the young girl from his arms and holding her. Perhaps she'd never gotten to raise her Melody as she wanted, but she still had the same parental instincts as anyone. He had the grace to look a little regretful of his word choice.

"Sorry Amy, Mickey, it's just this isn't good news at all," he offered.

"Why?" She asked, still a bit cross with him.

"I'm the leader of Torchwood, Amy. But Torchwood Three—before that there was the Torchwood Institute, located at Canary Wharf," Jack explained.

"And they were bad," she summarized.

"Oh, more than bad," Mickey replied. "Ripped a hole in the universe to a parallel world that let the Daleks _and_ the Cybermen invade. We stopped it, and they had to shut down—the ones that weren't already dead, anyway."

"I've got to make a call," Jack excused himself, "As of now, finding Richard Butler is Torchwood's top priority." As the Captain left, Rory came running in.

"Gregory and the others are back," he informed them, and Amy set Mandy down and followed him back outside. They met the soldier just as he was climbing out of a UNIT jeep.

"Gregory, did you find anything?"

He didn't quite meet her eyes. "Evidence needs to look through things, ma'am. But it's not likely. I'm sorry."

Amy tried not to visibly deflate, but doubted she was having any more luck at it than her husband. "It's alright." Not having the heart to do much else, the Ponds allowed the soldiers past and into the trailer. Shortly afterward they saw both River and Jenny hurrying towards them.

"We saw the jeeps come back, did they—" Jenny started, but fell silent at Rory's shake of the head.

"And we found out Griffiths' friend is named Richard Butler, and he worked for Torchwood—the bad one," Amy told them all, causing frowns all around.

"I suppose that's why the TARDIS won't just take us to where he is," River mused aloud, turning to look at the ship in question. "It's too dangerous for her. Or he thinks it is."

"Why does he always get to decide when it's too dangerous for us?" Amy couldn't help griping, and her daughter shrugged.

"It's one of the many things about him that is so aggravating, mother, and so loveable." She had to sigh in defeat at that, but noticed Jenny glancing back and forth at them.

"So, you really are her parents?"

"Yep," Rory supplied succinctly.

"So, I know we're not biologically related, but since she's my step-mum does that make you my step-grandparents?" The girl seemed rather curious about the answer, and was trying and failing to hide the hopeful look to her expression.

"Well, if you want, I suppose," Amy replied, not really wanting to think about being a grandmother before her thirties, but unable to deny the little thrill that went down her spine. She was a _grandmother_.

"I've never had grandparents! Or a mum, for that matter, but I kind of like it," Jenny exclaimed in a rush, and it almost forcibly reminded her of the girl's father and his childish glee over the simplest of things. She began to wonder if perhaps all Time Lords had been this way or if it was just his genes heavily influencing her.

"Um, we're glad, I guess?" Rory tried, looking a bit lost as to how to deal with this new development. She was managing to stay calmer, but perhaps that was because she'd always suspected their ancient friend had been a parent. The way he watched over everyone else, how he paid just that little bit of extra attention to the children, and how he always saw her as his little Amelia.

But the Children of Time had grown up. She hoped that when they did find him, he'd let them take care of him for once.

OoO

The room was bigger, the walls were a pristine white, and the floor was tiling instead of concrete, but nothing had really changed. He was still trapped in a room with no windows and a locked door, Richard skulked in with his food, and not only Dr. Griffiths poked and prodded and opened him up, but other doctors and specialists.

The Doctor had completely lost track of time, unable to even count the minutes between when the golden energy settled around him and the next incision. He felt a constant ache now, not from the cut of the knife but the burning fire of regeneration which almost constantly boiled his blood and seared through every nerve under his skin with no release.

At least some of the restraints had been lifted. He was only strapped down by one wrist, allowing a freedom of movement in his ankles and legs that he hadn't enjoyed for what seemed an eternity. Perhaps that had something to do with Dr. Jeffries, or Dr. Griffith's repeated insistence that he was not being held prisoner here.

Now there was a tough question. How much of this was the work of Griffiths and Butler, and how much was his own doing?

True, the Doctor could not do much with the time he was given to recover between the operations, but he certainly wasn't doing everything in his power. And what if he had simply said no to Dr. Jeffries' request to donate a liver to his daughter?

The principled man, no longer tempted, would likely have turned Charlene over to the proper authorities, and his torment would be at an end. But Kenneth Jeffries' torment would have only been at the beginning, the slow, merciless torture of a man who outlived his child.

Only twenty-five! Amy was twenty-six by this year, if it still was the year he thought it was. How could he say his loved ones had any right to live longer than someone else's?

And it was only a liver. That's what the Doctor kept thinking. It was only his kidneys, only his gallbladder, only his lungs and his heart and his body—he could grow more. What was a body to a Time Lord? He'd truly achieved his own Final Sanction, his physical body was of no true importance to him now.

Charlene entered while he was still chuckling bitterly, which began to turn into a coughing fit as he abruptly stopped at the sight of her. She waited patiently throughout it and then offered him a tiny sip of water. It was cold going down his esophagus, but did nothing to soothe the golden blaze within.

"You seem in a better mood," she commented, which he said nothing to. "That's a good thing. I don't want you to be unhappy here, Doctor. I want you to see the good you're doing. Lauren's healthier than she's been in years, along with so many others. It's all thanks to you." And confound it all, he truly felt a sense of relief and even a small measure of joy at the thought of all those people. Those people who rightly should be dead, if not for this- for him staying here.

"And I think you realize it more than you let on," she said, suddenly piercing him with her gaze again and he could barely suppress a shudder. "You said I won't let you die, but that's not true at all, is it Doctor? Because when I was researching the Master, it said why he died. He'd refused to regenerate."

He remembered vividly that awful day, cradling his once best friend in his arms and screaming, begging him to regenerate, not to leave him all alone because he just couldn't bare it any longer.

"You can stop this any time you want, Doctor. It's you in control, not me. But," she began softly brushing his fringe back from his eyes, the gesture almost tender, like one might run a hand over the fur of a favorite pet. "I don't think you will. You see the worth in this, Doctor, and you want to live. Just like all those other people out there that you're helping want to live. If you stop this now, you're not just failing yourself—you're failing them. Would you do that?"

He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to answer because he knew there was no going back after this. "No."

She smiled and patted his head. "I didn't think so." She stood and exited, only stopping once at the door to look back at him. "Thank you for your help, Doctor." The sincerity in her eyes was so genuine he could hardly stand it.

Charlene Griffiths felt she was doing the right thing, and now how could he blame her?


	8. Chapter 8

**BEFORE YOU EVEN _THINK_ ABOUT READING THE CHAPTER, READ THIS: -ahem- Thank you. Ok guys, serious-talk time. It has come to my attention that an anonymous reviewer accused the author Starling Night of copying me with her oneshot "Let Her Under Your Skin, Into Your Heart". Guys, that simply is not the case. I mean, disregarding everything else, just look at the post dates! Hers obviously came first. If that isn't enough, I said from chapter one that I was inspired to write this fic after reading hers. So please, read my author's notes. They're usually important, and I try to cut down on the rambling.**

**Naturally, Starling Night was upset over such a false accusation, which is completely understandable. I myself was upset, and was debating whether or not to discontinue this story. But, she is being very gracious about this whole ordeal and we managed to work things out. For that reason alone, you should go read her oneshot, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this right now. Here's the link:**

** www. /s/8565559/1/ Let-Her-Under-Your-Skin-Into-Your-Heart**

**(remove the spaces)**

**Seriously though guys, please think before you leave a review like that. It can be a real confidence-destroyer, and kind of kills the joy of receiving feedback from people. Plus, this is fanfiction. I'm writing about a character and concepts that were conceived a good thirty years before I was _born_. I'm pretty sure that I'm not really being an original author here.**

**Anyway, sorry for depressing you all like that, but it needed to be addressed. With that said, I'm sorry for the long wait between updates, but I think you can see why now. Also, thanks again for all the reviews, favorites, follows, and the C2s. You guys are one of the biggest reasons I'm still continuing this and my other fics. Thank you.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eight**

"—and I'm telling you we're not doing enough, here!"

"We all agree that there is still much potential, Collins, but to make such a radical infrastructural change—"

"Would return on the investment made in _days_. We're talking cutting out the entire utilities bill!"

"Look, we've also got to figure out what we're going to tell the press—no one's going to believe the number of donors just skyrocketed!"

"Well, what else can we tell them?"

"No, it's not the press we should focus on first—"

"What do you mean—"

"If you'd let me finish!" Dr. Karen Harris nearly screamed, the debate having escalated so fast and so loud. The woman breathed heavily a moment and then nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Charlene offered her a tiny, closed mouth smile from her place near the head of the table. The head of the table was reserved for Gareth Wilkins, one of the many contacts that had been secured through Dr. Jeffries, and also a man who held great sway over the Department of Health. It was this man who had gotten her a place in this building. He blew the air out of his mouth slowly, ruffling his mustache somewhat, and nodded his head in indication of Dr. Harris.

"Thank you," the woman said at a more normal volume. "I believe that what we should really focus on is not the press, but the people. Young people."

"How do you mean?" Wilkins questioned in his deep, rumbling voice. Dr. Harris swallowed and re-tucked her hair again.

"Well, it's just that we need to show young people the wisdom and the potential this project has. I'm not saying everyone—but the truly bright ones. The ones who are going to become the new doctors and scientists, the engineers and researchers. If we hide this from them now they might not understand- they might think it's wrong." Her eyes were darting about the whole time, never staying anywhere for long, but Harris' eyes fell on Charlene on the word 'wrong'.

She leaned forward in her seat, and the murmurs that had begun during Harris' speech quieted. "I think it's a marvelous idea," she said slowly, and allowed a smile to spread across her face. "It would be good for the children- our future leaders and innovators –to see the progress we're making. Because it's not wrong."

"Charlene is quite right," Wilkins agreed, looking somewhat disapprovingly at Harris. "There is nothing wrong in progress, in using knowledge and resources gained. Because _that_ is what we are doing here, people. This is about _science_."

Everyone else at the table muttered their agreement, Harris' cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Joseph Collins, however, looked rather eager to speak.

"About that idea on resources, sir?" Wilkins nodded once again, and Collins puffed up in importance. "All I'm asking of Dr. Griffith's is that we try one simple experiment—just one. If I'm right, this could revolutionize British energy forever." Wilkins looked to her for her answer.

"Very well, Collins, if you're absolutely sure there shall be no negative impacts to the regular procedure." She regarded him seriously.

"Of course not," he assured.

"Good. I trust you two can see to that. I shall look into setting up a seminar for those bright young minds Dr. Harris was talking about. If everything has been resolved, then I think we can adjourn today's meeting." Wilkins stood and nodded to each of them before departing. Charlene left just as quickly, glad to be done with today's bureaucratic annoyance and to get back to the lab. She found that Collins was determinedly dogging her.

"I suppose you want to get started right away?"

"If you'd like," he grinned. "I already set up all the equipment in the lab. Knew Wilkins would give it the go-ahead." She must have frowned, for he smirked. "I guess that gets you all frazzled—everything has to go through him now."

"I don't see the benefit of this board of decision-makers," she said as diplomatically as she could manage. The smile on Collins' face dimmed somewhat as he seemed to sober.

"You didn't have a choice. A lot of those people on the board were on the fence about all this at the beginning—but if they had no say at all they'd be even more so. You heard Harris today."

"Her words don't worry me," Charlene dismissed. He scoffed.

"They'd worry you if she started talking. But, give her a high-up position, let her say her bit once in a while, and it keeps people like her happy. Keeps you from getting into a whole lot of trouble, too." He pointed his finger in an accusing way and she glared back at him.

"I've done nothing wrong—this is all to help the human race. No one can argue against that, surely." Collins chuckled.

"Yeah, you've got your lofty high-horse, I get it. Silly me, just in it for saving and making money. But you've got to admit," he held the door of the lab open for her, and she swept in with her head held high, "_this_ isn't necessarily what the average person would call a good first impression."

He was dozing now, or maybe he was awake. It was getting harder to tell. The slow rise and fall of the chest was steady and even enough to be indicating sleep, yet the dark rims around his eyes, looking almost like bruises, gave more credence to the idea that he rarely slept at all.

Her second hypothesis was proven correct as the Doctor turned his head and struggled to blink his eyes open. It seemed as though he was fighting his own eyelids.

"Charlene…" he said on an exhale, his half-glazed eyes drifting to Collins' face. "And…Joseph, wasn't it?"

"That's right," Collins replied with a cheeky grin, ruffling the alien's bird-nest hair like one would a good dog. "You look like hell, Doctor—who was it again?" The dark-brunette laughed at his own little joke as Charlene scowled and edged him out of the way so she could approach the table.

"You should use the free time you have to rest, Doctor. It's not a necessity of course, if you like I could have a schedule set up to run the operations twenty-four seven. We could save even more lives, then. But I'm trying to be kind in allowing you your sleep." He was so obviously exhausted, she was not entirely sure how he was managing to stay awake through this conversation. It just showed how remarkable this all was, these steps she'd taken to bring them here.

"Can't, Charlene…" he cracked a wry grin, his lips turned up in a lopsided smile. "I'm burning."

"Sorry?" She blinked, completely thrown by his words. He'd never acted delirious before.

"Always…It never stops…It wants to- finish—" He broke off in a coughing fit, not as if suffering a cold, but short, dry coughs. The alien let his head rest back on the table with his eyes shut and his breathing heavy. "Throat…so thirsty…water…but it won't stop the burning."

"Well, maybe I can help," Collins spoke up, giving the Time Lord a jaunty smile as tired eyes cracked open again.

"Yes, that machine…what's it for?"

Charlene turned at last to view Collins' equipment. Though she could hardly make sense of it, what she noticed immediately were the electrodes.

"Quite simply, Doctor, it's to convert energy—your energy." Collins wore a prideful grin as he explained. "Once Charlene explained to me that your 'regeneration' process was really just you using energy to heal yourself and then change your face, I thought: 'Who needs arcane potions?' This is the modern age, here! So, we attach these electrodes to your head—"

"Because the brain…signals and controls energy…and what it's used for," the Doctor interrupted, seeming to know already what Collins' idea was. The man, for his part, pouted.

"Well it's no fun when he's just as smart," he grumbled, before returning to his usual smug cheerfulness. "Right, so once you've used enough energy to heal yourself, that extra unused energy will be channeled through this machine. The idea is that it will be converted into electricity which we can then use. Rather brilliant, if I say so myself." Neither Charlene nor the Doctor offered him any words of praise, so he sighed and got to work.

Overall, she found the wires of the electrodes a nuisance to work around, but as Collins had promised it didn't negatively impact her work. And she had to admire the man's improvements on the system, the newfound efficiency.

"I have to hand it to you, Collins," she admitted as the golden energy travelled through the wires and collected in some part of the machine. "You put more thought into this than Rich."

A wispy, hoarse chuckle caused her to look down. The Doctor, newly healed, looked just as if not more tired, but was laughing.

"What's so amusing?"

"Richard—you haven't mentioned him in a while…but where is he, Charlene? I saw him this morning…he helped Collins wheel in his science project…but where is he now?" The laughing continued, weaker and weaker as the alien seemed to drift into sleep, the 'burning' alleviated.

Charlene didn't check, for she was storming from the room, Collins on her heels. Richard Butler…that selfish man who hadn't gotten his wretched TARDIS…and she'd let him get away.

The Doctor did sleep, but she didn't watch or observe. She also didn't hear the screams of his nightmares.

OoO

Sarah Jane looked up from her computer screen. She was having Mr. Smith at home run through any and all files, records, or mentions of Dr. Charlene Griffiths or Richard Butler in all types of media. The ones the supercomputer judged most relevant, she read through and followed up on herself. So far, she'd drawn up a list of likely places the two could have escaped to, but was going to do more thorough checks before reporting her findings. After all, they couldn't afford to waste time on a false lead.

She'd been interrupted, however, by Martha Smith-Jones offering her a cup of tea with one hand. In the other, she cradled the infant Michelle. "Thank you," the reporter said, taking the cup and motioning for the UNIT doctor and mother to take a seat. Martha did so. "What sort of progress have the others made?"

"Well, Mickey's helping Jack coordinate the search for Butler, and Donna's reviewing lists of passports used to get out of the country recently. The Ponds are trying to coax the TARDIS into taking them to the Doctor, but they're not having much luck. River thinks he's forbidden it from following him," the raven-haired woman finished glumly.

"What a perfectly confounding thing for him to do," Sarah Jane shook her head before sighing. "Well, it can't be helped. He's in love with that ship—he'd sooner put himself in danger."

"I wish I could be half as understanding. How have you even managed to put up with him for so long?" Martha was looking at her with admiration.

"Oh, it's not too hard. Then again, not too easy either." They both laughed. "But he's one of my oldest friends…especially after Alistair—" she had to blink back tears at the reminder of the Brigadier. "And whether I like it or not, some part of me is always going to love him."

"Yeah…" Martha looked down and shifted Michelle in her arms, settling the baby closer to her. The little infant was sleeping now, and her mother smiled fondly down at her for a while. "Sometimes I think leaving him was one of the best things I ever did—but I can't help it sometimes, thinking it was the worst." The younger woman looked up to meet her eyes, a question in them that she proceeded to voice. "Is that wrong?"

"Of course not," she replied, reaching out and placing her hand on the other's shoulder gently. "There's always going to be that what-if. But you have to stick to your own convictions. You had a rare gift, Martha: you left on your own terms, when you were ready."

"I know, but I guess that's the thing," Martha said. "I just feel like now, the only times I see him are when the world's about to end or when we need him—like one of those random people on those planets we used to visit. I guess I just miss the times when we could talk. I miss having him for a friend." Sarah Jane simply nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with the sentiment. "And I'm worried…because right now, I'm not doing much," she nodded down at the baby she was still holding. "But I think- I think I'm going to have a lot to do when we find him. And that frightens me."

"We're all hoping for the best right now, Martha. But if you're right—I think you're exactly the right person for the job." The female doctor managed a small smile in gratitude for her confidence, and she pressed on. "You won't be alone, either- we'll all help."

Martha opened her mouth, perhaps to thank her, but at that moment—

"Oi! You two, Colonel Mace's office- now!" Donna Noble had stuck her head in the doorway, her practically booming command waking Michelle who began to cry. The redhead looked a little ashamed as Martha worked to shush the baby. "Sorry," the temp muttered, before returning to her usual sureness. "But you're not going to want to miss this!"

As soon as Michelle had quieted enough, they followed Donna to the Colonel's office. It was a tight squeeze with everyone else, and she was surprised to see it was Captain Jack Harkness who appeared to be the one who called the meeting.

"We've located Richard Butler," the Captain stated, getting right to the heart of the matter, and had to wait as they all processed that information.

"Then where is he?"

"What has he said?"

"Where's my dad?"

"Whoa, people, hold up," Jack raised his hands to quell the rapid questions. "Butler appears willing to cooperate, but—and I don't like it—he's very specific about who he wants to negotiate with."

"And who would that be, Captain?" Colonel Mace inquired.

"Sarah Jane Smith," the American answered simply, locking his eyes onto her.

She gave a little, "Oh!" of surprise, noting the shocked looks on the other's faces. Well, that just wouldn't do. "Has he given a reason why?"

"He has," Jack nodded and frowned again, "it's because you're anti-weapons."

"Oh, so he wants us to send in a defenseless woman so he can use her as a hostage?" Mickey remarked, clearly outraged. But she felt rather indignant herself.

"Defenseless, am I?" She asked of the UNIT soldier, straightening in her chair. "I may not carry a gun or condone violence, Mickey Smith, but I am capable of defending myself." With practiced ease she produced her sonic lipstick for them all to see. "If the Doctor can go into battle against the worst of the universe with a screwdriver, I think I'm more than able to stand up to a human male with his gift to me." Jack, Mickey, and the Colonel still looked somewhat uneasy, but it was Amy who spoke up next.

"I think she's right. I mean, I've seen the Doctor use the sonic to disable Silurian guns before. And we don't even know for sure that Butler's armed in the first place." She nodded appreciatively at the redhead's logic and belief in her abilities.

"What other options do we have, Colonel?" Sarah Jane implored of the officer. "This is our best chance at finding the Doctor. Tell Mr. Butler I agree to meet with him." She stared them all down determinedly, and allowed herself a small, satisfied smile when their shoulders slumped in defeat.

OoO

He paced up and down the little rented room agitatedly, glancing at his watch every few seconds. Richard was beyond nervous at this point- definitely anxious, but closer to panic.

What was he even doing?

This wasn't like him. He was in it for himself, his own interests, he didn't concern himself with others. Until he'd been forced to. Until he'd had to look into those eyes every single day, watch the light blink in and out of them like two faulty bulbs, never judging yet just by being there saying _you did this_.

He'd been able to ignore it somewhat successfully before in that dingy basement, because what else could he have done? They'd committed a crime, he and Charlene, and he needed to hide as much as her. But then that Dr. Jeffries had come into the picture with his money and his connections, and then Wilkins had shown up with his institution of brilliant people and a safe haven for them.

Those brilliant people…to them, the alien strapped to the table was a pet, an experiment, a lab rat. But not him- he could still remember the Doctor, the Time Lord who had talked with him, studied Charlene's data, raised a tool in defense against him and threatened to use it, and then had given in instead.

There had been emotion in those alien eyes, rational thought and reason. And he'd helped turn him into an emaciated husk. Richard had always thought science had been about giving life to new things in new ways—but instead he'd taken life away.

True, they'd been giving new life and hope to those receiving the benefits of Charlene's project, himself among them, but he felt he was cursed to know the origins of his new, perfectly healthy organ. Nevertheless, he still saw the ideals of Charlene's plan and was still unable to completely disagree with them.

When he'd seen what Joseph Collins was up to, however, Richard had simply snapped. This wasn't about scientific discovery and helping and saving lives and the needs of the weak and sick anymore, it was about dollar signs and profits and exploitation on a grand scale.

And he'd needed to get out. He'd been living day in and day out under two pairs of watchful eyes, the abductor and abductee, and his nerves were so frayed, he was so tightly wound he was terrified of his own shadow and could not even bare to shut his own eyes for even a second. Insomnia was not treating him well.

"Richard Butler." The woman he'd requested, Sarah Jane Smith, was standing in the doorway, hands held out and open in front of her. Though he'd tensed at the sound of her voice, he managed to relax his shoulders somewhat, attempting to appear calm and collected.

"Ms. Smith," he nodded at an armchair, and she slowly walked to it, lowering herself onto it, but her eyes never left him. Always the eyes. He perched, unable to really settle in somewhere anymore, on the edge of the couch across from her, a coffee table separating them. "Thank you for agreeing to see me."

"Mr. Butler, I should let you know that my friends and I are not very pleased with you at the moment. We're quite aware of the part you played in the kidnapping of the Doctor. So I'd like to know what exactly you're up to now, and what you hope to gain." Her eyes were narrowed at him now, her hands folded on her lap with the fingers intertwined.

"Gain?" He couldn't seem to stop a mad little laugh bubbling up from his throat, and she regarded him warily as he answered between giggles, "Some peace of mind! Some- some _sanctuary_, anything! Just keep me away from her—don't let her find me, and I will tell you everything you want to know."

"Where is the Doctor?" Was her immediate question.

"Don't bother—they'll realize I'm gone and move." Didn't they already know how clever Charlene was? How easily she'd been able to evade detection so far? And now she had any and all resources she might require at her fingertips, with Jeffries and Wilkins being listening ears.

"They? There's more than you and Dr. Griffiths involved in this plot?" The investigative journalist was quick, he had to give her that.

"There is now."

"How many?"

"I don't know—twenty, thirty? The number grows every day." He pushed his glasses up his nose and flinched at the outraged look on the woman's face.

"Thirty! How is she finding them all?"

"Charlene is persuasive," was all he said. He'd been persuaded into going along, he'd been forced to remain silent, and was forced even now to acknowledge her point with every breath he still took.

"What sort of people can be persuaded into kidnapping a man—"

"He isn't a man, that's how!" She gaped, stuck somewhere between shock and fury, and he had to laugh again at the absurdity of her expression. "You can't kidnap a man, not on Earth, not on Earth. But an _alien_—You see? It's brilliant!" He was outright cackling now. "She's figured it all out- and she's right, it works, it's the _right thing_, you can't win—"

"If you do not give me something useful, Mr. Butler, I cannot guarantee this sanctuary you've requested." She had regained her voice now, speaking firmly, and a sudden fear gripped him- he _needed_ that safety.

"The electricity—_look at the electricity_." He had her arms in a tight grip, and Richard wasn't sure when that happened. But then—

"Ahhhhhh!" He fell back, clamping his hands over his ears as an unbearably loud, high-pitched whirr assaulted them. Her face was lit up with a redish-pinkish glow as she pointed the little sonic device at him. Thundering footsteps announced the arrival of two men he recognized from Charlene's files—Captain Harkness and Mickey Smith. They yanked him up roughly from the floor, and the intolerable noise cut off sharply at last as she gasped.

Her eyes were locked on his abdomen, where his shirt had ridden up to show a nasty-looking scar. "How did that happen to you?"

They didn't even know. They didn't even _know_.

Richard laughed and laughed as they forced him into the backseat of a jeep and snapped a pair of handcuffs around him, though he heard the Captain mutter, "Somehow, I don't think a criminal charge is going to stick on this weirdo."

At last…sanctuary.

OoO

_You are not alone._

The Doctor heard the words as he'd heard them then, in that wise, deep, there-but-not-there voice of the Face of Boe. But the Face of Boe wasn't the one saying it.

Jack Harkness was. On the operating table next to him.

"The Immortal Man who's already lived centuries. Surely you want to help your fellow humans, weak mortal men whose lives are so fleeting compared to yours, Captain. Isn't that fair? Is that asking too much?" Dr. Griffith loomed like a giant over them both, and her knife was hovering over the Captain's chest.

"No- no, not Jack! Charlene, you can't—" He protested, fighting to lift his frail body off the table. She didn't need to do this, she already had him.

"You're not enough, Doctor. You can't save everyone, too many of us scream and bleed and cry out for help. And I will do what I have to."

And suddenly it was as if something was wheeling the table along a corridor, and every room they passed revealed a new horror. Concentrated electrical charges fired into the pulsating brain of Donna Noble, trying to remake the DoctorDonna. The TARDIS dismantled and humming a low moan of agonizing pain as parts were ripped off her console and taken apart. River, bleeding out on a table as they desperately tried to feed regeneration energy into her because she had none of her own left.

"No! Please, no! Charlene, stop this, stop this _please_! You have me already- you can save them, I can save them—"

"Like you saved us, Doctor?" A familiar, chilling voice.

Rassilon and the Time Lords, strapped down to tables like him, being cut into and harvested, golden energy feeding into the bright lights above. The grasses of Earth were red, watered with the blood of Gallifrey.

Rassilon continued to glare at him, even as his teeth were clenched to avoid crying out. The Master laughing until his lungs were removed, but the golden energy did not come and the laughter did not start again.

That's all he had to do.

A shriek of fear and pain he remembered oh so well snapped him from his daze. "Grandfather!"

No. He couldn't see that- couldn't see anymore, don't make him—

He was running before he knew he was free, not questioning it, not looking back _because he dare not_.

"Help!"

He froze, his head turning to see a little girl with a tear-streaked face. "Please help!" She begged, big eyes blinking up at him. "My Daddy needs a heart, but the doctors say he has to wait. Please don't let my Daddy die! Won't you help him?"

Charlene now stood behind the girl, a comforting hand placed on her shoulder as her cold eyes studied him, but made no move to recapture him. It was his choice. An impossible choice…unless children were crying.

"Of course I will," he knelt before the child and smiled for her, wiping away her tears. As he looked up, he saw Charlene looking down at him with a triumphant expression. Because she had won. He could never escape her, because he _would_ never escape.

The Doctor awoke gasping for breath. They'd moved him while he was sleeping, he realized, likely due to Richard's disappearance. So he took in the details of this new room—his new home.

**Ok, so some serious developments there. I'll let you guys digest all that, I realize it was rather jam-packed, but I wanted to make up for the long wait. In other news, check out the minisode and new trailer for the Christmas Special, guys! It looks really good! Although, I'm super-confused as to how they'll explain what's up with Jenna's character(s). Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Back again! Sorry for the really long waits between chapters lately, guys, my schedule's been really hectic these past couple weeks. But now I'm on Thanksgiving break! To those of you who aren't celebrating Thanksgiving/Black Friday, well um…Happy Thursday and Friday? Eh, I'm just going to continue the fic now. Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Nine**

"So what do we do now? Our one lead turned out to be a nutjob!" Donna couldn't help exclaiming in despair. She'd never been too confident in her own abilities, but if all of them together couldn't find the Doctor, then what hope did they have? It had already been far too long since he'd gone missing, and even longer since she'd last seen her best friend, one of the few people in the universe who could make her feel like she was even worth anything.

"Well, we start by having soldiers search the area around where Butler was picked up," Jack instructed, "My team's already setting up a probable radius. Hopefully, his desertion has thrown Dr. Griffiths off guard, and she'll make a move to reveal herself."

"But he said she's got others working with her now, too," Sarah Jane pointed out.

"How could anyone agree to something take part in something like that?" Martha asked. "I don't care what he said about the Doctor not being human."

"But that's the point," Jenny spoke up from down the conference table, her chin resting on her folded arms. The enthusiasm the girl had exhibited earlier when they'd caught Butler had gone, leaving her discouraged and bitter. "You use animals to test your products and medications before putting them on the market. Miners used to send canaries into mines first to test if the air was breathable, to see if the bird died—"

"Sharing your accusations of the human race doesn't help much," Mickey snapped, feeling just as hurt as the rest of them. But for once, Donna didn't feel nearly so irritated.

"No, she's right…he said something like that to me once, and I got mad at him. But it's why this is happening. He's different, so that makes it ok in their minds—whoever's minds, that is."

"You said something about testing products," Rory spoke up, looking at Jenny before turning to face the rest of them. "And that's sort of what we think they're doing, right? Running experiments, researching. So maybe we shouldn't be stationed near a hospital—"

"We should be looking at labs. That's brilliant, dad!" River praised, rising from her chair swiftly and leaving the room. Donna at first had been surprised so far by the woman's energy, but perhaps it was to be expected—moving about and working likely kept the archeologist's mind off her husband's predicament.

"Ok, so River and—"

"I'll go," Amy volunteered quickly, and she could see the similarity between mother and daughter in that moment.

"Amy can look into research laboratories," Jack finished. "Sarah Jane, can you keep looking up background on Dr. Griffiths? I want a full profile of that woman." The investigative journalist nodded before exiting the room with Amy. "Mickey, when's Colonel Mace going to be back from that meeting?"

"Within the hour," the other man replied, "But I can get that search party organized."

"Alright, with me, then. We'll meet up with my team," the Captain agreed, and the two left.

"Martha, what do you think Butler meant when he said, 'Look at the electricity'?" Rory questioned the other doctor, who shrugged.

"I'm not sure, but it's worth looking into." The two kept talking quietly, but Donna moved down the table to sit next to Jenny. The girl hadn't moved since she'd spoken.

"Hey, it's going to be alright," she offered, not that surprised when she received no response. "Oh, I know I'm just as disappointed as you—would've helped if that weirdo had had an address to tell us. But we can't give up."

"I know," Jenny sighed, and it worried Donna. Because she knew just how fiercely determined the blonde girl could be.

"You've been following your father for a long time, haven't you?" She asked rhetorically. "Well, just think how amazed he's going to be when we find him. You have a real knack for making him speechless, Jenny." The two had to chuckle a bit at that, but then Donna's mobile began to ring, and she saw it was from her mother. "I'll be right back," she promised, standing and leaving the room to take the call. "Yes, mum?"

"Dad's been frantic since you left, only he doesn't want to be a bother, so I figured I'd give you a ring for him," Sylvia's voice spoke from the other end of the line, and she realized just how much she'd missed hearing from her family.

She sighed. "We haven't really found anything, yet. But we did catch one of the people responsible." Just repeating their lack of progress to her mother made her feel worse.

"Well, good. I hope you gave him lesson, lady," her mother remarked.

"He was mad, mum, I'm not going to yell at a nutter."

"Oh dear…he's stuck with mad people?" And it was touching almost to hear just the slightest amount of concern in Sylvia Noble's voice for the Doctor.

"Looks like it," she said glumly. "But, how are you two? Sorry I forgot to call."

"Oh we're about the same as usual," the other woman dismissed. "Suzanne's pleased as peach because her daughter got invited to some special science seminar or somesuch—the Wilkins Institute, I think."

"What's 'the Wilkin's Institute'?" She couldn't help asking in a somewhat mocking tone. Her mother chuckled.

"Oh, I don't know, but it's supposed to be very posh, new breakthroughs and methods and all that- never heard of it before, though." They talked a bit longer, her mother catching her up on all the latest gossip. "Well, I hope you find that idiot of an alien soon enough."

She had to laugh a bit at that. Perhaps Sylvia was worried she'd let on just how much she cared. "We will. Bye, mum."

"Bye, Donna."

The temp hung up and turned around to find Jenny waiting for her. "Come on, I want to go see what the others are doing."

Donna smiled. "That's more like it." Together, they headed to the computer lab where River, Amy, and Sarah Jane were all at computers, clicking and typing incessantly.

"Found anything?" Jenny asked, seeming to muster up some energy, and Donna wasn't sure it was a good thing that the girl was learning to hide her hurts like her father did.

"Afraid not, even with UNIT's more extensive search engine," River replied.

"I haven't found anything to indicate her current whereabouts," Sarah Jane started, turning in her chair to look up at them, "But I think I know the cause of all this."

"Really?" Jenny inquired.

"Dr. Griffiths completed her internship last year," the journalist informed them. "But the same year, her father passed away, due to a heart condition. Shortly after, she moved to Morocco, and then vanished off the records."

"So this all has something to do with her father's death," River summarized. The brunette nodded.

"I think it's safe to say that is the case."

But Donna was standing behind Amy, who was still determinedly scrolling through a list of science labs. "Could you try searching the Wilkins Institute?" She could barely make out the other redhead's reflection on the monitor screen, and so saw the woman wrinkle her nose in confusion.

"What's that?" She asked even as she typed it in.

"I don't know," Donna confessed, "My mum just mentioned it, something about her friend's daughter going to a lecture they're having—"

"'A Seminar on the Latest Breakthroughs in the Scientific Field for Young Minds,'" Amy read aloud as a page loaded on her screen. The Scottish woman clicked the link, and they both gave exclamations of astonishment.

"What is it, mum?" River asked in concern.

"'A special presentation given by Dr. Charlene Griffiths!'"

"_What_?" River, Jenny, and Sarah Jane all shouted at once and suddenly Donna was being smushed in between the three of them as they all crowded the space behind Amy's chair. But the words were there, along with a date.

"That's got to be her, right? How many Dr. Charlene Griffiths are there?" Jenny cried in a rush.

"It _has_ to be her!" Sarah Jane declared.

"Oh my God, we've done it!" Donna yelled.

"Done what?" They turned to see Martha and Rory standing in the doorway, likely drawn by the commotion. Martha was still cradling Michelle in her arms, and it appeared the hospital intern had been enlisted to bring Mandy along, for the toddler was held in his arms.

"Rory, we've found him!" Amy announced triumphantly, and her husband hurried over with the female doctor and the kids.

"How? _Where_?"

"Well, we found Griffiths, but he's got to be with her," her fellow redhead amended. "She's at some place called the Wilkins Institute."

"We knew it!" Martha exclaimed, and everyone but Rory turned to look at her in surprise.

"Knew what?" Sarah Jane asked.

"It's like Butler told you—look at the electricity. Rory and I were talking about that, so we decided to do some searching and found this article about this new establishment- the Wilkins Institute –using absolutely zero electricity. They're claiming they've made a breakthrough in clean, renewable energy."

"Then this really is the place! If Butler was pointing us toward it and Griffiths is there, that's got to be where dad is!" Jenny was beaming in pure joy.

"Energy…" Donna heard River murmur, and turned to see the curly-haired woman frowning.

"What about it?" She asked, and the other blinked before looking at her.

"I'm not sure, but—"

"Colonel Mace is back, and he wants to talk with everyone," Mickey stated from the doorway, Jack next to him.

"Well, we want to talk with him," Martha returned with a wide smile. This was just what they needed- the Colonel would order his troops in and they'd have the Doctor back before they knew it.

OoO

"What do you mean, you're stopping the search?" Jenny almost screamed in outrage. They'd done it, they'd _finally_ found her dad, and now the UNIT officer was telling her no?

"Not stopping it, necessarily," Colonel Mace replied, and if she wasn't feeling so cross with him at the moment, Jenny might have noticed how pale and drawn his face was. "But I'm afraid we'll have to scale it back."

"Why?" The others seemed content to let her lead the questioning, or perhaps they were just shell-shocked. They were so close at last to finding her father, what could possibly be stopping them now?

"Young lady, I've just returned from a budget meeting and the government is cutting our funding by at least 50%!" The man snapped at last, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "Before I can even _think_ about ordering troops anywhere, I have to know just how many troops I'm going to have in the near future, not to mention supplies, technology, transportation—this is the most unbelievable cutback I've seen!"

"Did they give a reason why?" Sarah Jane asked, mouth agape. The journalist had known UNIT for quite some time, so to hear this news was probably a great shock.

"Oh just the standard balancing the budget, needing the funding for other programs," he said dully, now rubbing at his temples. "The point is, I'm afraid UNIT cannot provide further assistance in locating the Doctor."

"But we _have_ located him," Donna broke in. "We've found out where Doctor Griffiths is!"

"Where is that?" He looked genuinely interested, and Jenny hoped they could seize on that moment.

"The Wilkins Institute," Amy said, and the Colonel's eyes widened.

"The Wilkins Institute? But- no, it can't be…"

"What can't be, Colonel?" Jack asked, his eyes narrowing, but at that moment the officer's radio crackled to life.

"Colonel, an emergency meeting's being called—"

"Very well, I'm on my way," the man spoke into the communicative device before pushing back from the table and rising from his chair. "I do sincerely wish you the best of luck, but as of now this mission will be returning to base."

"Colonel, permission to stay behind?" Mickey requested, and Martha nodded to indicate her request as well.

"I cannot guarantee the safety of your employment if you do so, Smith, Dr. Jones," Colonel Mace replied, clearly trying to convey the importance of the choice the couple had to make. Martha and Mickey looked at each other for a long time, their two daughters in their arms, and a silent conversation passing between them.

"We can go back to freelancing if that becomes necessary," Martha said at last, her mind made up.

"And I could pick up some shifts at the automobile shop if there's no work available," Mickey added. Jenny felt tears spring to her eyes as she leapt up and ran to the married pair in order to throw her arms around them.

"Thank you!" She cried. "Oh you humans—forget what I said, you're absolutely _amazing_!" The two laughed as she then bent and kissed the children's heads. The Colonel cleared his throat after a moment, and resigned, the group stood and exited the trailer for what was probably the last time.

"I can't believe they cut UNIT's funding," Jack was saying. "They're the legitimate organization the government has to deal with alien activity. I should probably check in with the team, make sure we aren't about to get called into one of these 'budget meetings'," he clearly was disgusted with what had happened, just as they all were. If they had no one backing them, what were they but a group of ragtag people who just wanted their friend back?

As the Captain walked away, the young man she'd gotten to know as 2nd Lieutenant Jenkins walked toward them. He approached Amy, which did not surprise her as she knew the two were good friends.

"I guess this is goodbye again, ma'am," the soldier said, a frown evident on his features. "I'm sorry I can't do more—"

"It's not your fault, Gregory," Amy was quick to reassure, and she had to give it to the woman for managing to produce a smile. Right now, Jenny didn't feel like she was capable of comforting anyone else at the moment, let alone herself. "I just hope everything works out for you and UNIT."

"Thank you, ma'am." He saluted and returned to the task of helping pack up the trailer. They watched the black vehicle pull away, nobody speaking for quite some time.

"Well, it's not over yet," Sarah Jane finally said, looking around at all their solemn faces. "Why, we don't need an army or weapons—we have the information we need!"

"You're right," Donna agreed. "All we have to do is go to that Wilkins Institute."

"We can't just ask them if they got the Doctor, though," Mickey pointed out. "We need proof."

"But how do we get proof? Someone would need access to the building, and if they really are holding the Doctor, they won't let one of us in," Martha remarked.

"Yeah, since Charlene was with UNIT, then she'll know not to let one of us anywhere near that building," Rory added.

"Maybe not one of you," Jenny mused aloud, and they all turned to her. "But, think about it—I'm not on file at UNIT. Charlene doesn't know about me, so I could get in."

"The seminar!" River realized, already going over a plan in her head, one Jenny was pretty sure agreed with hers. "You could blend in with the students that they allow inside, infiltrate that way."

"Exactly, and then I could get some real proof," she grinned.

"That's great," Jack had rejoined them, "But we'd need some unobvious way of recording that proof. I doubt they'll let you take a camera in." She frowned, not entirely sure how to work around that flaw. Amy suddenly spun to face her husband.

"Wait, Rory, what about those glasses you used- those ones that let the Doctor see what was happening—"

"Through the Time Glass? But they broke- they shattered- I don't know if—"

"Well, I'm sure he has a spare," River cut her father off and made quick, determined strides to the TARDIS. They all followed after, Jenny stepping in last. She had to take a deep breath first.

Because Jenny had never been inside the TARDIS. She hadn't gotten to on Messaline, and she'd been too worried about finding her dad to take the opportunity yet. But here it was, a giant console room with stairs and hallways that branched off and a giant control panel with a center column all contained within a little box. The truly amazing thing, though, was the low hum that grew in pitch and volume, as it almost seemed to vibrate through her, the lights turning up brighter and brighter, so that before when it had been dark and dim, it was now well-lit and welcoming as she entered.

"She's beautiful…" was all Jenny could manage, looking about the ship with adoring wonder, frozen just inside the doors. She was practically speechless.

River was off to the side, rifling through what appeared to be a closet. "I'm sure he must have a spare, or at least something similar," the woman could be heard muttering, as she kept pulling out and discarding random objects, most notably—"Oh, _really_!"—a bright red fez, until at last, the professor gave a triumphant cry of, "Here it is!"

Jenny was at last broken from her awestruck state out of curiosity as she walked forward to meet River halfway, who appeared to be cleaning off a pair of thick-rimmed glasses. "I know they're ridiculous, but put these on."

"Alright," she agreed, placing them on her face and scrunching her nose up a bit at the unfamiliar sensation. "What are these for?"

"Keep your face turned to me, but look up at the monitor screen," River instructed, "Don't turn your head."

Jenny's eyes darted up to the screen to see River's face, exactly as it was now in front of her. "Oh! You can see what I see," she said in understanding. "So we can use whatever I find at the Institute as evidence."

"Exactly," River smiled both in real life and on the screen, "now we just have to wait until Dr. Griffiths' presentation."

OoO

Perhaps he had been dozing again, he wasn't sure. The faces that hovered over him in surgical garb these days often mixed and melded with the phantoms haunting his dreams. Regardless, he was reasonably sure that he was once again in reality, and that they had moved him once again. But this room was far different than any the Doctor had seen in a while.

He was still laid out on the cold metal table, still held down at the wrist, and the walls were still bare. But one wall, to his left, reached a certain height and then sloped inward at an angle, and it was made of glass and not concrete or other materials. Right now, the glass was covered by curtains, so he could not see what lay beyond, whether it was another room or that near-forgotten dream called sunlight.

Charlene entered at last, hopefully to put an end to his fruitless observations. The Doctor was so very tired, he didn't feel quite up to puzzling things out for himself anymore.

"Today is a very important step for the institution, and for us, Doctor," she told him, wheeling in what looked like a heart monitor. "We've invited children- the gifted minds of Great Britain –to see what we're doing, what we're accomplishing here today."

An operating theatre…he was in an operating theatre. And he was to be the entertainment.

"You should be proud, Doctor," she continued. "At last you'll be getting the recognition you deserve for your help. I know perhaps you've never wanted the fame, but I really hope this will make you see the appreciation we have for you. The human race is grateful to you, Doctor."

If they were so grateful, why did he always ache? Why was he always tired, always starved, always cold- always empty?

"I really do think this will be a success. Children are the future, as I'm sure you know, and they will continue to build on our work and improve it beyond even my wildest ideas."

He had the thought that some time ago he might have been alarmed at that statement—for what could possibly be wilder that the plans Charlene envisioned for him? But, those days were gone. And really, perhaps improving this system he was the participant in would be a kindness; the more efficient he was, the more humans he saved. And this was the best way.

"We've already come so far," she commented, beginning to run a hand through his hair as she often did when talking to him. It was one of the few times something touched him that wasn't cold and metal and innately designed to cause pain, and it both frightened and calmed him at once. "You and Rich called this kidnapping when we first began, but I did something today for the first time in a while: I left the Institute. I walked through London on my own, went to the shops—things any kidnapper could only dream of. If what I've done is wrong, Doctor, then shouldn't someone have stopped me? But your precious UNIT did not appear- it seems no one objects to my work. The world is ready to embrace my panacea to their ills."

He tried to imagine Charlene walking down a busy London street. She wouldn't be that remarkable in a crowd, not that recognizable. Could UNIT be blamed for not seeing her? But…according to Charlene, they were not even trying to see her. No one was looking for her- or for him. No one was trying to 'rescue' the Doctor. He'd wondered, but to have it confirmed…her hand had left his hair and he felt a sense of loss, for he understood now it was the only warmth, the only contact he'd ever know again.

Charlene glanced briefly at her watch. "We'll begin in an hour. I'll be back before then to make sure you're ready for the students." She turned to leave, but it was his voice that stopped her.

"J-juh…..Juh…Ger- Geronimo…" He was ready.

**So, at last an update. Things are starting to come to a head. What will Jenny find at the Wilkins Institute, and what will that mean for the Doctor? Also there is the issue of UNIT's sudden downgrade and the new challenges that presents. Until next time, though, so thanks for reading and please review!**


	10. Chapter 10

**It was great to hear back from you all once again, so thanks for the continued reviews, favorites, follows, and C2s. Not much else to say except I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter, and now it's time for a chapter I'm pretty sure a lot of you have been waiting for.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Ten**

Jenny took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and slipped on the glasses just as she stepped into a stream of students exiting a bus. She hung back so as not to attract the attention of this particular group's chaperones, but made sure to have a couple kids behind her, not wanting to stick out as the last person either. It took every ounce of control not to tense up as they passed through the glass front doors, for she knew now there was no turning back.

A blast of cool air hit her as she stepped through into the air-conditioned lobby, causing goose bumps to rise on her skin, though some part of her felt that they might have happened anyway as she looked about the gray, high-ceilinged room. Kids murmured quietly to each other as they huddled in the center of the room, joining a large crowd already gathered. A tall woman with a half-up hairdo stood before them in a pristine white blouse and dark pencil skirt. As she waited for them to settle down, the woman tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear, clearly some type of nervous habit.

"Good morning, my name is Dr. Karen Harris," she introduced, "And I will be giving a walking tour and the opening lecture before turning you over to Dr. Griffiths. We at the Wilkins Institute feel that you are the future, and we want to prepare you for that future. So, if you will follow me, we can begin." They began to move as a giant mass, but as they rounded a corner, Jenny saw her chance—a little alcove with a side door, clearly meant for employees of some sort. If she wanted cold, hard evidence, she needed to get out from under the control of a tour.

Sticking to the wall, she slipped through the door and quickly assessed the room; her inherited military training from Messaline had not been completely forgotten. It was a simple, dimly lit hall, with a door on the right that was labeled 'Boiler Room' and an elevator on the left.

"I think I'll start from the bottom," Jenny muttered, seemingly to herself, but not really- she knew the others were watching and listening to everything from the monitor screen in the TARDIS. So Jenny pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Whereas the rest of the building was cool, the boiler room was very hot, as well as cramped, dirty, and incredibly noisy. It wasn't all that remarkable from any other boiler room, except—

"I was pretty sure Earth boilers didn't _glow_," she commented, slowly approaching one of the large metal contraptions. But it was- not as if there was a light attached to the outside of it, but as if something inside was glowing, causing the entire thing to emanate a faint golden hue. "I really don't know what to do," she admitted, shaking her head a bit before realizing that was not conducive to their viewing of the situation. "I can't touch it and I don't have the right tools to open it up. I'll just have to leave it." She didn't say that it was giving her an odd feeling, like a strange sort of tingling under her skin. Quickly as she could, Jenny exited the boiler room and was nearly going to hit the button for the elevator when she saw it.

"Aha! Found the circuit breaker panel," Jenny quickly began digging through the pockets of her new jacket, which she'd taken from the TARDIS wardrobe for one express reason: Time Lord technology. "Let's see if you're the same as those boilers, huh?"

So fine, this time she was talking to an inanimate object, but she felt justified in doing so as she produced a screwdriver- a real one –and worked with speed to remove the cover. Sure enough, the whole box had that same gold glow, but now she could actually see it running steadily through the wires. A golden glow so very like…

She hadn't realized she'd dropped the screwdriver until she heard it clang against the tiled floor. Jumping at the harsh sound, Jenny bent down to retrieve it, and replaced the cover as fast as she could. Leaning against the wall next to the panel, she took several deep breaths. "So, that's what they're using to power the building," she finally said out loud, swallowing once before pressing the button to call the elevator and stepping inside when the doors slid open.

Clean, renewable energy, Martha had said. And River had looked apprehensive, rightly so as it turned out. That golden glow, that energy, was the light given off during a Time Lord's regeneration. And as far as Jenny knew, there were only two Time Lords in this building. Herself and her dad. Somewhere, her father was dying.

But how could that possibly make sense? As far as renewable went, he only had two regenerations left. Unless the energy given off from those two regenerations had been enough to power the building indefinitely, and the Doctor was already—

No, she couldn't even think that.

A bell dinged and the doors slid open again, and she found herself in a long, brightly lit hallway with what appeared to be offices. Before she could get back in the elevator to try another floor, however, a group of people rounded the corner. Not the students, but adults all carrying notepads and pens except a rather round man in the front with a mustache. She dug frantically in her pockets for supplies of her own, procuring the items just before the man with the mustache looked up and noticed her.

"Young lady, what are you doing here?"

Jenny's eyes darted about, taking in all the details. People in business attire asking questions and taking down notes, and she could just see a 'press' badge sticking out of one of the women's pockets. Well, it was a good thing she'd gone with a blouse and black trousers.

"I'm afraid my driver got stuck in traffic, sir," Jenny gave a large, apologetic smile, quickly fishing perhaps her most important tool from her top jacket pocket—the psychic paper. It was pure luck they had it, as her father had passed it to River at some point during their last adventure and the professor- her step-mum, she needed to start remembering that –hadn't had the chance to return it before his disappearance. "It's a bit of a drive."

"Yes, I see, Ms. Foreman," the man rumbled in reply as his eyes squinted to read the text. "I hadn't realized the _Clom Gazette_ had an interest in my institution."

Jenny blinked and checked the paper for herself. She understood that Smith was perhaps too obvious a pseudonym- but Clom, really? "Oh, well, our readership in Clom is, er, very interested in scientific advances." If that was her story, she was sticking to it.

"I see," he repeated again, clearly growing bored with her already. "Well, you may ask a few questions, but I really haven't much time left."

The others were looking at her with some scorn, likely for her 'tardiness' and the fact that this was gaining her extra attention. She hastened to come up with a suitable inquiry that did not sound like an accusation, even though that's really what she wanted to do.

"Well, for starters, how exactly did the Wilkins Institute begin? Who was the driving force behind it all?"

"It really started as a scattered group of innovative thinkers," the man, clearly Wilkins, responded with perfect evasiveness. "An old acquaintance of mine, Dr. Kenneth Jeffries, was looking for financial backing and a collaborative team to help a project begun by his colleague, Dr. Charlene Griffiths."

"So is the organization privately funded?" Perhaps if Wilkins was the sole provider, they could get enough dirt on him to have the entire thing shut down for good.

"It began that way, but recently we've been looking to get recognition from the government. You see, Ms. Foreman, we hope to expand our success, first to the entirety of Great Britain, and then the rest of Earth."

"Not having to pay for utilities probably helps to keep costs low as well," she noted and he nodded in acknowledgement of her point. "What exactly is this renewable source of energy?"

"We've been experimenting with biofuels," he answered simply, and she nearly snapped the pen she was holding in two. Biofuels? The regenerative energy of her father was _not_ a mere biofuel. How could he—

"Gareth, you've a call waiting," another man had just stepped into the hall, and through the door he was holding open, Jenny could hear the shrill tone of a ringing phone. She could also, with her stronger sense of smell, detect the stink of alcohol on the man's breath. It wasn't even midday. "It's giving me an awful headache."

"Thank you, Kenneth," Wilkins replied shortly, dismissing the intoxicated man. "Very well, that is all the time I have for you today. My secretary will show you out."

Jenny walked with the group obediently down two flights of stairs before one of the women slipped in her heels, and she used the commotion to run back up to the landing they'd just passed and entered another hall. This one was sparsely decorated as well, but smelled quite strongly of antiseptic and iron. She had to stand still a moment to adjust to the scents.

It wasn't long before her solitude was shattered. A set of double doors at the end of the hall burst open and a girl, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, with blonde hair came rushing out with a hand clamped over her mouth. The teenager made a beeline for the clearly marked restroom, and seconds later Jenny could make out the sounds of someone retching.

Though it was an incredibly foreboding sight, she knew that she needed to see what was going on behind those double doors. Hopefully, if people saw a blonde girl leave, and saw a blonde girl come back, they wouldn't notice the difference. Reaching up, Jenny took out the pins and hair tie that had been keeping her bun in place, perhaps another factor in her successful disguise as a journalist, and arranged her long locks as the girl had. Nothing could be done about her outfit, but most people didn't pick up on details like that.

Fortunately, it appeared the girl she was replacing had chosen an end-seat, and so as Dr. Harris was wrapping up her speech, she slid in next to a boy with ginger hair.

"—please, keep in mind that what we are showing you today is scientific discovery, advancement on a scale the human race never considered possible. What Dr. Griffiths will be presenting to you will change everything you know."

If she hadn't been focusing so intently on the woman's words, she might have seen it coming. As it was, she was caught off guard at her seat-neighbor's familiar voice as he whispered, "Hey Jess, you ok—_Jenny?_"

Jenny turned with no small amount of alarm to face Aaron Wood's shocked expression.

OoO

"What I must first ask you to do is dismiss any preconceived notions you have about science, about the universe even," Dr. Harris said, and Aaron saw two of his fellow students roll their eyes. He'd had doubts about going on this field trip himself, considering the Wilkins Institute was a barely established entity. Still, he might as well give the poor lady a chance, she looked like a nervous wreck.

In truth, the reason he had agreed to go to this thing was simply that he needed a distraction. Aaron had been going through his schedule as normal, but with an overlying sense of guilt. While he studied and worked and went out with schoolmates every once in a while, his friend was missing. He just felt he could be doing more to help find the Doctor.

This little presentation by these scientists was exactly what he needed, something to take his mind off things, at least for a bit.

So Aaron refocused as Dr. Harris continued, "You see, this whole project began with a reimagining of the world around us, with an emphasis on encouraging theory and experimentation. Over to your left is our New Physics wing, where we have specialists who work to explain the complexities of the world in different ways. Though we are a small group, our team is dedicated and we've had signs of early success. Another growing department is our Astronomy sector, which is located on your right. Space is the latest frontier—not the final, as the Wilkins Institute firmly believes in not setting boundaries. That is a part of the reason we have SETI astronomers employed as well."

SETI. He'd come across that phrase before. But another kid beat him to it.

"Doesn't SETI stand for the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence?" When she nodded, several students snorted or outright laughed. Aaron didn't join them.

"By the end of today, you might not find that so ridiculous," was all that the female doctor said in reply, before leading them up a flight of stairs. "We'll be entering the Biology Department, where we will meet up with Dr. Griffiths for her live demonstration of what the Wilkins Institute has accomplished."

A girl from his school, Jessica Flenn, tapped him on the shoulder, her face pale. "She said live. But, she doesn't mean like a dissection, right? Cause I _really_ hate blood."

"I don't know, Jess," he said simply, shrugging and hurrying to catch up with the group. They filed into a room that looked almost like a lecture hall with slowly descending levels that finally stopped at the front of the room where a curtain hung across the entire wall. He wondered just what was behind it. Judging by the furtive glances his peers kept shooting at the curtain, they were all just as curious.

Everyone eventually settled into seats, and Aaron stood back to allow Jess into the row before him out of politeness, but the girl shook her head.

"No, it's probably best if I'm on the end," she reasoned, "I really don't like this."

"If that's what you want," he agreed, trying not to roll his eyes at her over reactive behavior. Honestly, it couldn't be so bad what this Dr. Griffiths was to be presenting to them. And he'd known classmates who had gone to watch open-heart surgeries no problem, so it was really just unfortunate that he'd been stuck with the super-squeamish Jessica Flenn.

"Before I turn you over to Dr. Griffiths, I would like to give you an overview of just how the Wilkins Institute came into being," Dr. Harris was at the front of the room again, brushing hair back from her face repeatedly. "We are a group of forward-thinkers, committed to bringing improvement and betterment to people's lives. We endeavor not to hold anything back from the people, which is why I am about to tell you about the biggest secret our governments have been hiding from us for decades."

That set everyone off talking amongst themselves, and even Aaron sat up straighter in interest. He was kind of a sucker for conspiracies.

"The governments around the world in the past have been sponsoring an organization called the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, or UNIT." UNIT? What did UNIT have to do with any of this? Aaron did his best to look as surprised as the rest of the students he sat amongst. "They are charged with investigating and dealing with anything extraterrestrial."

"With all due respect, ma'am," the boy from before spoke up, "there isn't anything extraterrestrial to deal with."

Dr. Harris offered an indulgent smile. "I think the mere existence of UNIT negates that assumption, young man. But this is what the Wilkin's Institute wants to do- combat the sheltered view you've been given of the world. I only have to point to the so called hoaxes that occurred during your earlier years in the 2000s."

"My mum said those were students," he heard a girl two rows ahead mutter, and the boy next to her snorted.

"Like any of us could pull something like that off."

"Yeah, and what about those things that killed the American President?"

"Aaron, weren't you researching aliens last summer?" Jess asked quietly to his left, and he gave a little jump in his seat.

"Um, yeah," he answered slowly, becoming uncomfortable with the direction this lecture had taken. What exactly was the Wilkin's Institute up to?

"So you can already see that things are not what they seem," Dr. Harris was concluding for them as the voices gradually quieted. "UNIT has been dealing with hoaxes like those- quite poorly –and alien life itself since its formation, keeping the public in the dark. They are no better than a simple police force, designed to shut the world off from any kind of contact with those we occupy this universe with."

"What are the aliens like?" Someone called from the back.

"There are several kinds, some quite primitive, but others with technology beyond our current capabilities," Dr. Harris answered. "Instead of learning from these species, UNIT has chosen to keep the Earth isolated. As a result, our own technologies have begun to stagnate as this globalized world has nearly tapped its entire potential."

"You can say that again," one of the other kids grumbled, "my new iPhone's the same stinking thing as three generations ago!"

One girl tentatively raised her hand. "Are- are the aliens…mean? Are we going to be invaded?"

"So far we have proven capable of defending our own borders," their lecturer reassured. "But we still know little of those we share the universe with. We at the Wilkin's Institute are trying to change that, thanks to Dr. Griffiths' work. I am afraid I shall now be giving you a history lesson." Some of the kids scowled at that. "Countless years ago in a galaxy far from our own, there were two alien species-the Daleks and the Gallifreyans –locked in a long, bloody war. In a rather barbaric tactic, one of the warriors destroyed his home planet in the largest act of autogenocide this planet has ever heard of, leaving him the last member of his tribe, called the Time Lords."

Aaron blinked. Perhaps he was slow, perhaps he was stupid—but was this woman actually talking about what he _thought_ she was talking about? Because that would mean—

"Oh my God, that's _horrible_," Jess breathed next to him, looking incredibly pale once again.

"This warrior has gone on living in eternal agony, as it was and still is near impossible to kill one of his species, and so he has been forced to live with unbearable remorse for what he did. He had taken to serving UNIT each time they failed spectacularly in one of their missions, before Dr. Griffiths was able to come up with something ultimately more beneficial to the human race than a soldier. She has been able to turn the most feared being in the cosmos into a healer, a bringer of life to the people of Earth."

He was numb, absolutely numb. Aaron could not _believe_ this was happening, that he was hearing this. What kind of warped history was she spouting at them? Who had come up with this censored version of the Time War- of the _Doctor_ –and for what purpose?

"This creature has offered himself up to scientific study as it causes no permanent damage to himself and allows for new breakthroughs to be made in all kinds of fields. Most paramount to this is the medical field, as through the study of and experimentation on an alien's biology provides new data and developments."

"Experimentation how?" He heard his own voice ask sharply, though he wasn't sure how the words had managed to leave his mouth. Aaron's heart felt like it had leapt up to hammer away in his throat. By going on this pointless fieldtrip, he may have just stumbled across where the Doctor had been taken—but what sort of a state was his friend in?

"The usual scientific method, young man," Dr. Harris told him with that same pleasant smile, though it seemed to almost waver as she continued. "Observation, blood work, some- live dissection."

"Oh _God_," Jess practically moaned, her face a greenish tint as she clapped a hand over her mouth, stumbling up the aisle and out the door.

"But there are no lasting effects to the alien," Dr. Harris hastened to add, though her eyes kept darting to the door Jess had fled through as if she could follow the teenage girl's flight. The scientist appeared to be having trouble collecting herself. "Um, it's very crucial that I stress to you how important this project is to the continuation of the human race. With the cooperation of this creature, we have been able to start progressive changes to medicine, helping countless individuals all over Great Britain to become healthy, productive citizens once again."

It seemed Jess had gotten a handle on her shaky nerves for in his peripheral vision he saw her retake her seat. Aaron sighed as Dr. Harris kept talking, realizing it would be rude of him to not check on his schoolmate, but not wanting to miss anything the woman was saying.

"Please, keep in mind that what we are showing you today is scientific discovery, advancement on a scale the human race never considered possible. What Dr. Griffiths will be presenting to you will change everything you know."

He seized the moment as the woman ended her speech to turn to the girl. "Hey Jess, you ok—" His mouth dropped open as he really, fully took in the female sitting next to him, and Aaron gasped, "_Jenny_?"

And Jenny Smith whipped her head around to stare at him with wide eyes and an almost guilty expression. "Aaron!" She squeaked in a tiny voice, obviously not wanting to bring attention to herself. He felt she had good reason, for what was she doing here and how had she gotten in? "Um, hi?" She whispered, biting her lip a moment. "Please don't tell."

"Of- of course not, I just- what are you doing—wait no, Jenny this is important, I think they have—"

"My dad, I know," she answered, a grim look overtaking her pretty features. He couldn't help narrowing his eyes in confusion as he noticed something different about her.

"Since when did you wear glasses?"

"I don't, they're sort of cameras—oh! Stupid, I need to face front," the girl berated herself quietly, turning sharply in her seat, and just in time. Dr. Harris had motioned for a man to the side to turn a contraption that controlled the curtain.

As it parted, the woman said, "Now I would like to introduce you to Dr. Charlene Griffiths, who will be giving the rest of the presentation." Jenny's knuckles were white as her fists clenched in her lap and a scowl was evident on her face, but Aaron returned his attention to the front as it was revealed that the curtain had been concealing a glass wall overlooking another room they were situated slightly above.

It was brightly lit and looked completely sterile. A table lined with medical instruments stood slightly left of center, as a woman was occupying the middle of the room. She had dirty-blonde hair in a low bun, was rather average in height, but what struck Aaron the most was her cold eyes. Even though she was below them, those ice-cold eyes made him feel like she was towering above, looking down at _them_. When she smiled, it didn't reach her eyes.

"Good afternoon, students," Dr. Griffiths spoke. "As Dr. Harris was explaining to you, I have pioneered a mission to save our species, utilizing the new resources of the twenty-first century. For too long UNIT has been holding Earth back, condemning countless innocents to early graves as a result. But the Wilkin's Institute- and you –are the future. I feel that each of you has the ability to embrace that future, and work for the betterment of your fellow men and women."

It was stirring rhetoric, as most of his peers leaned forward in interest and anticipation. They were not to be disappointed. Dr. Griffiths continued speaking as she walked over to a part of the room in shadow, where he could make out what he thought might be a loaded table covered with cloth. A man with dark hair and what some might call a winning smile joined the woman.

"To this end, I will not hide anything from you. I have promised a demonstration, and I shall give one." The two adults began pushing the covered table, wheeling it to the center. They each also had hold of a different machine, both of which had wires leading underneath the cover. The one that Dr. Griffiths was guiding along he recognized as a heart monitor, but the man's machine was unfamiliar to him. They stopped upon reaching the exact middle of the room, where the woman had been standing before, and the man backed away as she reached a hand briefly under the cover, appearing to perhaps unlatch or unfasten something.

Dr. Griffiths then straitened and walked to one end of the covered table or cart, grabbing a handful of the white cover. "I give you the source of my research, tests, and success—Subject Theta." And in one fluid movement she wrenched the cover away to reveal the creature underneath.

For Aaron could not call what lay under there a man without joining Jessica Flenn in emptying his stomach.

**So…don't kill me? Please? Pretty please? I'm stopping here simply because I feel like I'd be rushing the next section if I tried to include it in this chapter. Also, I wanted to get an update out today. So, once again, thanks for reading and please review!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, so I'm getting to work right away on the next chapter. But I should probably explain something that has some people confused. Normally, I'd just clear it up in a pm, but a few of you guys asked this so it's simpler this way. The students that were brought to the Wilkins Institute were invited from schools all over Great Britain, and the only two from Aaron's school are Jessica Fenn and himself. It should also be noted that Jess was not in Aaron's history class, and thus did not go on the Fieldtrip of Epic Proportions. So, hopefully that makes sense. At any rate, thanks for all the feedback once again!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eleven**

"Oh God."

It didn't matter who said it. She could have said it for all she knew, but it wasn't likely. River Song had been alive for far too long to think there was something out there—and how could she think so with the reality unfolding on the screen before her?

Cold logic didn't stop her from crying in her head to some unknown entity, _Why? Oh, Why?_

If she hadn't been so sure in her hearts of what would be under that white cover from the moment Jenny had discovered the regenerative energy coursing through the building's electric panel, she might not have recognized him.

His skin was bone white, or perhaps that was merely from the way his bones were so prominent under skin stretched taut over distinguishable ribs. The floppy full head of hair she knew was a ratty, tangled mess, thinning and brittle-looking, while a dark, coarse scruff was overtaking the lower half of his face.

But what was the most frightening part, the absolute worst, were the eyes. Those eyes that would never stay still, that gave away just what he was feeling no matter how impassive the rest of him looked, that were always, _always_ thinking—they sat, sunk deep in dark sockets, staring blankly at the ceiling. He lay there, immobile and simply empty.

She became slowly aware of the bite of someone's nails into her skin, her mother or someone else gripping her arm tightly. And as the numbness faded, she realized she was clutching just as desperately back. Her ears began to pick up sounds, muffled mutters and badly concealed whispers.

"That's an alien?"

"He looks like a bloke."

"Is he even alive?"

It was to Jenny's credit that their view of what was happening was not diverted to these simple conversations. Maybe the girls was just transfixed or frozen, but River felt it spoke of a greater strength, a resolve not to turn away from the horror.

"Subject Theta," the cool, confident voice repeated, and River's eyes jumped to the woman on the screen. Dr. Charlene Griffiths…the sight of that vile woman standing over her motionless husband was quickly turning her shock to rage.

"What has she done to him?" Sarah Jane whispered, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"The last of the warrior Time Lords, tempered and made docile by guilt for his unspeakable actions in the past."

"Of course he's docile, you're starving him!" Donna burst out angrily, but was forced to fall silent to hear Griffiths' next words.

"A medical miracle. Though his outer biology has evolved to mirror our own, on the inside you will see he is quite different." The human doctor switched on the heart monitor, and she wondered who had modified the equipment to display the twin peaks of his heart rates. Slow, very slow. This set off a torrent of noise amongst the students.

"As you can clearly tell, this creature has two hearts. This gives him a host of abilities that we can only imagine, but the most important is the biological process called regeneration. When a Time Lord's body is damaged beyond what can be naturally repaired for a human—"

"When you kill him," Mickey seethed.

"It heals itself with its own energy."

Yes, his energy. His energy that they were sucking out of him so they could have lights and heating and air-conditioning and running water for this macabre spectacle.

"That's not how it works," she heard Aaron Wood say softly, though she couldn't see him, and then she heard Jenny speak for the first time since the Doctor was revealed.

"That's not how any of it works, how it is. She's twisting it, making him a monster." She realized the girl's voice was not wavering with oncoming tears, but suppressed anger, and River wanted so badly to reach out to her, for it was exactly her own state of mind. A shock had been dealt to them so great and so offensive that they were left hard and cold on the outside and boiling with an almost unbearable rage within. "My father may have the ability to fight as a soldier, but he is not a barbaric savage." Then the vehemence seemed to fall away from the blonde's tone. "But why isn't he fighting now? She released his restraints—he could run. Why won't you run, dad?"

"I don't even know if he could," Rory said solemnly, and there was merit to her father's words. The condition of his legs were unknown, as they were still clothed, but she doubted they were capable of making a sprint to freedom.

"But then why keep him restrained until now?" She couldn't help arguing on Jenny's behalf, for she agreed. Even if it was hopeless, the Doctor would always try. What was stopping him? How had this woman broken him so?

"He's the starwhale," her mother breathed, and it was not just River who looked at her in bafflement. Amy had indeed dug her nails into her arm, but her fingers unclenched in order to bring her hand up to wipe at her eyes. "It stayed," she choked out. "Even after all that torture, all those years they kept treating it like a prisoner, it still stayed. Because it just made it kind." Amy tore her gaze away from the screen as her tears spilled over. "But that was wrong."

"By utilizing Subject Theta's unique properties, we at the Wilkins Institute have been able to combat one of the most serious problems facing the medical world: the severe shortage of organ donors. The organs, blood, and even tissues of a Time Lord are incredibly compatible with that of humans," Griffiths continued with her lecture.

"No," Martha gasped, wide-eyed. "She can't be- that's—"

"We have made a record number of successful transplant surgeries using this creature's organs," the woman announced, creating another flurry of words amongst the students, and the people assembled in the TARDIS.

"Why that's horrid!" Sarah Jane cried in outrage.

"She calls herself a doctor?" Martha exclaimed, clearly affronted by her colleague's actions.

"Oh just wait till I get down there—let her have it, Jenny!" Donna urged.

"Oh, Doctor," Amy was moaning, face buried in Rory's shoulder, his own face ashen.

But River's attention went to Jack as he declared, "Thank you, Dr. Griffiths, that's exactly what I needed to hear from your lips." The Captain, who had remained grim and silent thus far, removed a recording device he'd plugged into the console and stood. "Donna, Jenny's being smart. She shouldn't reveal her position yet."

"What are you planning?" Mickey inquired as the other man slipped his arms through the sleeves of his greatcoat.

"Off to a budget meeting," Jack told them, before his frown turned to a smirk. "But I think I can change the topic to something a little more pertinent with this. Griffiths as good as gave her confession."

"So you can take that to the authorities and put an end to it. Wonderful!" The investigative journalist summarized, hope sparking in her eyes as he nodded.

"Wish me luck," were his last words before hurrying out of the TARDIS.

"So that's it, isn't it?" Rory asked, relief coloring her tone.

"Dad, please shh," she nearly begged. After all, Dr, Griffiths had yet to truly begin.

"It is not unlike the experiments other scientists have been making in using parts of animals native to our planet, but this method is the one that will continue. The two species are much more biologically compatible with one another, and as the organs come from a body that still lives, they are healthier to use in transplant operations. But the truly miraculous thing is this- no real harm is done to anyone in this process. Subject Theta's body heals, returning to its original state, and the human undergoing the transplant surgery recovers, completely healthy. Life begets life."

"She really believes that," River murmured, eyes glued to the woman's calm, sincere face. "She really believes everything she's saying, that what she's doing is good…and so does he."

"What?" Donna asked, but everyone froze as Griffiths walked to her table of instruments.

"Now I shall give you a practical demonstration of my work. Observe class, the triumph of modern medicine."

"Oh no," Aaron Wood said in a low voice as the woman pick up a scalpel. "No, she can't- what's he doing, Jenny?"

"I- I don't know," the girl replied, and their view of the situation trembled slightly as she trembled. "Dad, please…"

But her husband did not make a move or a sound as the female doctor approached and the other students leaned forward to watch in captivated silence. The only change in the Doctor was that he sunk his teeth into a bottom lip already mangled, red, and raw, just as Dr. Griffiths made her first incision.

"Oh!" Sarah Jane buried her face in her hands, the cry of despair seeming to come from deep within. Her mother was still leaning against her father, but the redhead's eyes seemed unable to look away from the screen. Rory's arms were wrapped securely about Amy as though he were using her as some type of talisman to stay strong. Martha and Mickey's hands were clasped together between them as they watched, and tears were trailing silently down Donna's face.

But as red bloomed on his abdomen, that was all River could see. Her own blood rushed up and pounded in her ears as Dr. Griffiths spoke, meticulously explaining every last part of the medical procedure, holding up his organs one by one like items at an auction before setting them aside to be delivered to someone else- some human who needed them more than him, apparently.

It was all done quietly and efficiently, with not a single protest from the Doctor. And that was what worried her most, scared her even. The man whose words were his greatest weapon had fallen silent in his own defense. Even with his remarkable lack of concern for his own wellbeing half the time, he had to see how wrong this was. A Time Lord, or any being, was not merely a tool just as she was not merely a weapon. They had thoughts and feelings the same as every species in this universe, and certainly the same as humans. So what must he be thinking and feeling to undergo this unbearable agony willingly, repetitively?

And who did this woman think she was to believe she had the right to literally hold his hearts in her hands?

"Oh- oh I just can't," she heard Donna moan, "What are we _doing_ here?"

River felt just the same. Even as she could not bring herself to look away for even a moment- it was only right for her to have to watch every terrible second of his suffering –she felt a growing urge to set the TARDIS in motion, land it right there in the operating room, and come out with guns blazing. Had this been some time ago, when River Song still made those brash decisions, she would have.

But Professor Song recognized the wisdom in Jack's plan. If she were to rescue her husband from the Wilkins Institute now, they could never come back to Earth again, for fear of recapture or worse. As much as she detested being constrained by local law enforcement customs, she knew it would only hurt him to be in essence banned from the only planet he came close to calling home. And she would miss her parents and all these people around her just as much as he would. That this was happening here made it even more wretched.

"Now you will bear witness to the true marvel," Dr. Griffiths stepped back, allowing full view of the hollow shell her husband's body had become. His eyes had slipped shut, and with noting in his chest cavity it did not rise and fall with breath. The seconds ticked by and she felt gripped by a sudden fear. What if—

But then it started. Wisps a gold energy began to rise from his skin, growing brighter to the point where even Jenny had to look away so that they caught a glimpse of Aaron Wood's shielding his awfully pale face with a hand, before the girl snapped her gaze back to her father.

It was as if someone had hit the magic undo button or reset the clock. Though his eyes were still shut, the Doctor breathed in and out with a chest free of any incision. What blood he'd shed was being cleaned away with rags by a couple orderlies, and he had a fresh supply within. Yet she felt he looked even thinner, wearier, and perhaps even emptier than before.

"As you can see, he has been completely restored," Griffiths gestured at his recovering form. "What energy he does not use is then converted into electrical energy for the maintenance of the building. At the Wilkins Institute, we are about one-hundred percent renewable resources."

"Cool," one of the students breathed, and somewhere in the crowd someone began clapping. Then it wasn't just one person, but a whole group of students, until almost the entire room of teenagers was applauding the presentation they'd just witnessed.

"How can they cheer for _that_?" Amy demanded.

"They don't get it, they don't realize what they're approving of," Rory shook his head, and she had to admire the certainty with which he said it. But then Mickey's phone rang.

The soldier picked it up before the second ring. "Jack? Tell me you have some good news." When the man's face fell, however, River felt her own hearts drop to somewhere below her stomach.

OoO

When the video stopped, Jack looked expectantly at the man. "Well, Reynolds?"

Reynolds was a beefy man with beady eyes and a double chin. He gave a "Hm," of slight interest before leaning back in his chair. "Very entertaining, Harkness."

"Entertaining?" He repeated, not thrilled by the word choice.

"Yes, though I'm afraid if you were going for shock-factor, I'm a little underwhelmed. You see, Captain, if you'd stopped long enough for pleasantries, I would have introduced you to this gentleman over here," he motioned towards the man who had been occupying the chair in front of Reynolds' desk when he'd barged in. A man with a mustache; Jack felt his mouth go dry. "Gareth Wilkins."

"Then you knew about this?" He gaped at the clean-shaven of the two. While he'd never really cared for Reynolds, he'd never imagined the man capable of this.

"Knew? Of course I know. Mr. Wilkins here met with me before opening his institution. He was interested in obtaining a grant."

"UNIT's funding," he realized, knowing now why Colonel Mace had sounded so worried when they had mentioned the Wilkins Institute.

Reynolds gave a short chuckle. "Well, UNIT is an outdated failure at best, it was frankly the easiest budget cut I've made my entire career."

"And now you're pulling the plug on Torchwood, too?" He guessed, scowling down at the man.

"No." It was Wilkins who said it, and he turned on his heel to face him in surprise. "I was the one who called this meeting. You see, I would like to propose a partnership between my Institute and Torchwood."

"A partnership?" He echoed, his eyebrows meeting his hairline.

"Yes. While regretfully most of your inventory was destroyed in the mid-2000s at Canary Wharf, I would be interested in having some of my scientists look at the alien technology your organization has acquired. It is my belief that these things could be put to better use for the profit of mankind, rather than sit around collecting dust," the man elaborated.

"We're not even sure what some of that stuff does, and you want me to release it to a bunch of civilian scientists? So they can take it apart and- and destroy it like they're doing to the Doctor—"

"Careful, Harkness," Reynolds warned. "Do you realize how many people have benefited from this project Wilkins is running? How much money we're saving? I can give you the figures—"

"I don't care about the figures!" He growled. "The positives don't outweigh the fact that these people have abducted and tortured an innocent man!"

"Come now, Captain, you and I both know that's not true. If Dr. Griffiths had committed any crime against a human being, I would have turned her over to the authorities myself. But she hasn't, has she?" Wilkins asked of him.

"Then it's a crime against humanity," Jack snapped.

"If it's a crime against humanity to heal people with the parts of a creature, then it's a crime against humanity to use leather or fur for clothing, put animals on the menu, or make a horse plow the field. No one is going to punish the designer, the chef, or the farmer," Wilkins reasoned. He opened his mouth, but found he had not a single word to say, and shut it again, choosing to glower at the man. "You know, I'm a bit surprised by your reaction, Captain Harkness," the man commented, before stroking his mustache in thought once or twice. "After all, I was quite sure of Torchwood's motto: If it's alien it's ours."

Jack grit his teeth together and through a clenched jaw said, "That's not our policy anymore."

"A pity," the man remarked.

"You're dismissed, Harkness," Reynolds spoke, looking at him in disdain. "But I think I'll hang onto this," the man waved his recorder. "I'm quite curious as to how you got this footage."

He glared at the two men still seated for a moment, before turning on his heel and marching from the office. In the hall, he took out his phone and quickly dialed Mickey's number. The other man picked up almost instantly.

"Jack? Tell me you have some good news." He sounded almost desperate, and he tried not to think about what happened during Griffiths' demonstration in his absence.

"Afraid I can't, Mickey. Wilkins is in with the authorities. They don't care about the Doctor."

"No, no they can't mean it—"

"Mickey," Jack interrupted, "I showed them the footage, and they're not going to do anything about it." He sighed, absolutely drained. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

OoO

"What did they say?" Martha asked her husband as soon as he hung up.

"They already know about the Doctor," he told them with a dejected tone. Sarah Jane gasped. "And they don't care."

"What kind of creeps are they?" Donna yelled, her anger returning tenfold.

"One that can sit through a video where the criminal admits to her crime and do nothing," the man responded tiredly.

"River?" Amy asked her, perhaps worried at her silence. "It'll be ok- we'll figure something out. I mean, we have the footage, so—"

"No," River breathed, her eyes going wide, and she lunged for something she'd laid on the console.

"What?" Rory craned his neck to see what she had retrieved. "Why do you need your communicator?"

"Because, if they've chosen to side with Griffiths and Wilkins, then they'll want to find the security breach. Jenny's in danger." She typed at a furious pace, feeling spurred on by a very real fear. Yes, she wanted her husband back, and yes, all she wanted to do right now was curl up in a ball and cry, but she couldn't bear to lose Jenny, too. That brilliant, sweet, loveable girl had so quickly become a part of her life, and right now she had to be her first priority.

When the view on the monitor jerked sharply, she knew her step-daughter had gotten the message, and it was confirmed when the blonde glanced down at the psychic paper to read it. _The authorities will not help us, but they know someone snuck in. You have to get out of there. Stay safe –River_.

She should have known. She should have known exactly what would happen next, and yet it still gave her a great shock. They heard Jenny's deep breath, and then suddenly the image on the monitor spun about and blurred until it suddenly stopped, and they could see the blonde girl herself, sans glasses.

"Hold on to those for me, will you, Aaron?" She asked, slowly rising to her feet.

"Jenny, what are you doing?" The boy nervously blurted the question on all of their minds as they stared horror-struck at the screen.

"I'm sorry," Jenny said, and the way her eyes connected directly with theirs made River realize she was apologizing to them as well as Aaron Wood. Then she turned away to face Griffiths.

**That's where I'm stopping this chapter. Apologies for the cliff-hanger, but I'll try to get you guys another update in the next couple of days. We'll finally get to see the confrontation many of you have been asking for since I don't remember when. Until then, thanks for reading and please review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Since I'm just as pumped as you guys for this scene, I'm going to do my best to crank it out. Thanks once again for all the reviews, follows, and favorites, I'm so glad you're all enjoying the story so much. Without further ado, the next chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twelve**

The applause didn't have time to die down as she got to her feet and cried, "Why are you clapping? Look at her, really look at her—her arms are drenched in his blood!" Her breath sounded loud and harsh in the sudden silence as everyone in the room, and those in the operating theatre before them stared at her in stupefied surprise. "Regeneration isn't healing- it's last resort for when the body _dies_. You saw the heart monitors, they stopped! They stopped because she took out his hearts, she killed him!"

"Young lady, please, you're acting hysterical," Dr. Harris spoke from her position standing by the sidewall, but Dr. Griffiths raised a hand. Her colleague's mouth snapped shut, hand jumping to her hair again as she deferred to the true mastermind. That was fine with Jenny, for it was Griffiths she wanted to speak with.

"I'm curious as to how you've come to these conclusions," the woman began, "As I have explained, there are no lasting impacts to Subject Theta's—"

"Shut up! Don't you call him that, don't you ever use that- that _label_ again!" Her legs moved of their own accord, carrying her down the steps of her aisle and right up to the edge of the glass. "He has a name- he's called the Doctor."

"The what?" She could hear several of the teenagers ask quietly.

"The Doctor," Aaron repeated firmly, and she felt her fondness for the boy grow at his assistance.

"I think perhaps we should call on your chaperone to handle this," Griffiths tried again, looking irritated now by the excited whispers amongst her audience.

"I don't have one. I'm not here on a school trip, Griffiths, I'm here to stop this. Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't smash this glass in." She was struggling to keep from doing so right now, because she knew that using violence in this instance would not solve the matter, but she needed to get in there.

"That won't be necessary," Griffiths nodded to an orderly, who trudged to the front of the room and swiped a keycard through a little box mounted on the wall, which then slid open to allow access to the room beyond. Warily, Jenny stepped through, aware she could very well be walking right into a trap. The orderly stood close behind her, within range to stop her if she were to make any sudden movements.

But at last she was face to face with this mad criminal. And even more importantly, she was in the same room as her father. Up close, he looked even worse, malnourished and starved to a nearly fatal degree, his skin practically bleached white from his time trapped indoors on this operating table. Her hearts clenched painfully at the sight, but she swallowed and met Griffiths' cold gaze.

"I think we would all like to hear why you wish to stop the saving of countless human lives," the female doctor stated, and she scowled at her use of these twisted morals.

"Because this isn't the right way to save them. When has it ever been justifiable to harm someone else for others? You talk about what the Doctor did to end the Time War and the pain it caused, but you failed to mention the pain you caused by abducting him."

"Abducting? But they said he agreed to be here," someone murmured.

"How'd they get away with abducting him?"

"If I really am holding him against his will, then where are the restraints? He is not a prisoner here," Griffiths argued.

"Yes, because you've convinced him! Just as you've convinced so many others- just as she's trying to convince you," she warned, looking up at the confused and restless crowd sitting above her. "But look at him, see the lasting effects! He's dying all the time that he's here, for some humans who have never met him. Do you tell them, Griffiths, that while they leave the hospital free and healthy their savior is lying on a cold metal slab waiting to die? I wonder, would they feel so free then?"

"What would you have me tell them, that they have months to live because an alien with nothing to live for refuses to help them?" The human retorted fiercely, her breath ragged as they stood on either side of the table, shouting over the sleeping form of the alien in question.

"Nothing to live for," Jenny repeated slowly, deliberately. "And you decided that? What do the people you help have to live for that he doesn't?"

"They have homes, jobs, friends, families- husbands or wives, sons and daughters. The medical profession claims they're successful as hundreds and thousands die, but just because there are billions of people on this planet doesn't make each individual one less worth saving."

"So because he's one in a few that makes it ok?" Aaron demanded from his seat. Several of the students around him frowned as they took in this logic, and turned their gazes back to Griffiths, who was becoming more and more flustered as she was forced on the defensive.

"And you're wrong, Dr. Griffiths. You're so wrong. The Doctor does have a home, and he works every day to help people through actions, not suffering. There's few people and few creatures that meet him and don't end up his friends. And when you _stole_ him, you left behind a wife who's been distraught ever since. While you've been making people healthy again to rejoin their normal lives and their loved ones, she's been crying because he's missing. And so have I."

"They said he's the last—" One boy started in an almost accusing tone.

"Oh my God, that's so sad!" A girl placed a hand over her mouth as her eyes grew wet with tears.

"Enough!" The woman barked, some hairs coming lose from her neat bun. "Sob stories never change anything. This is about the human race—our lives are so fleeting, how can you say I shouldn't do everything in my power to fix it? To save those that are left to me?"

And she recalled with sudden clarity Sarah Jane's theory about the root of Dr. Griffiths' ideas…the death of her father.

"Charlene," Jenny tried, and she froze at the softer tone. "I understand your grief. I wish that there was some way to fix it, so that everyone could be saved. But this won't change what has already happened. Please, let the Doctor go."

"What do you care for one creature? Why would you trade the human race just for him?"

"Because I'm like you," she admitted. "Because I'm a daughter who can't bear to sit by and watch her father suffer. Please," she begged as the woman's eyes went wide. "Please let my dad go." But it wasn't Griffiths who spoke next, or Aaron, or even another student.

"Jenny," a hoarse voice croaked, and she looked down and stared into open eyes. Eyes that, for the first time, shone with emotion, a swirl of shock, disbelief, and maybe just the tiniest bit of hope. "No…but how…?"

She threw herself down on her knees to get level with his face, not caring whether she startled the orderly into action or not. "It's me, dad," she managed, though it was suddenly hard to talk around the giant lump that had risen in her throat. Jenny tried to smile, though she suspected she did not have much success. "I'm here. I'm here to get you out."

Nearly all the students were yelling things now, and those that remained silent looked rather sickly.

"He- he can talk!" One teenager said, recoiling back in his seat.

"Oh God, he recognized her," another had clasped her head between her hands shaking it back and forth.

"What did we just _watch_?" Someone wailed over it all, and a large mob of children were trying to force their way out of the room.

"Out?" Was her father's question, and she nodded, mustering up enough strength to actually smile this time.

"Yes, we're leaving."

"But…why?" This made the smile drop off her face faster than a stone, and she looked up to see Griffiths' triumphant expression.

"Dad, you _can't_, look what she's done to you—"

He licked his lips and seemed to try and swallow, though she doubted there was much moisture in his mouth to do so. "But Jenny…everybody lives."

"Not everybody- not you!" She felt like the rug had been yanked out from under her. Out of all the scenarios, all the obstacles she had envisioned facing, her own father had not been anywhere on the list. Couldn't he see what he was saying was madness? "Dad, you can't stay here—"

"I can't go," he rasped out, managing just the tiniest shake of his head. "Not while…not while there's so many…It's the only thing…I haven't screwed up yet."

"You really want this," she realized, feeling a rising sense of panic. She didn't have a plan for this, hadn't even thought of what to do if this impossible horror happened. But her father was an impossible man.

And she was just as impossible.

Jenny rose slowly to her feet, looking at Griffiths again. "Ok, Dr. Griffiths, you've won. I believe you."

"Jenny, no!" Aaron yelped, stumbling down the stairs right to the glass, and she tried not to wince at the dismay coloring his voice.

"You're helping so many people by what you're doing—and I want to help _you_. Because I'm the Doctor's daughter." She held out her wrist to the woman, trying not to flinch when she grabbed up her arm and felt for her pulse. Her double-pulse. "And my body's just as useful as his."

"Jenny…what are you doing?" It was her father's turn to look terrified, and she saw his whole body tense as he eyed the human doctor's awed and almost greedy expression, still holding onto her arm. "You can't—"

"And you can?" She asked, turning it around on him so that he gaped at her. "I thought being a Time Lord was about shared suffering. Well here I am!"

"Not this…not this, it's- it's—"

"It's wrong, dad, I know. But if it's wrong for me to do this, then it's wrong for you." He was silent, and she looked nervously from him to Griffiths.

Jenny had run out of options. The human doctor hadn't backed down, it'd be near-suicide to try and fight her way out with her father in the state he was, and the cavalry wasn't coming, not for two Time Lords. She crouched back down again, resting her head on its side next to his.

"Trouble is, there's nothing I can do. The authorities aren't going to do anything to Dr. Griffiths because she hasn't committed any 'crimes'. So, we're stuck, cause I'm not leaving you. I won't stand to lose you again, dad, even if it's the worst life in existence." She closed her eyes, choice made, and waited for an orderly or someone to restrain her, strap her down onto a table of her own.

"Richard." It was one word, one simple little name, but her eyes flew open at the sound. He was staring not at her, but at Griffiths, with a cold steely quality to his gaze.

"What was that, dad? What did you say?" She prompted, straightening to look at him properly.

The human doctor, for her part, had paled and looked almost frightened. "No. No- Doctor, you can't! Think of all those people, all the lives—"

"I'm sorry, Charlene…so sorry. But not my daughter," the Doctor said, drawing in a deep breath before raising his voice. "Charlene Griffiths assaulted Richard Butler—stabbed him, quite literally, in the back… It was premeditated and unprovoked. The evidence is a scar…from the surgery she had to perform to replace his kidney."

The orderly took two uncertain steps toward Griffiths, who backed away, raising her hands in defense. "No, what are you doing- I had to!" Dr. Harris was practically tugging at her hair as she looked on in shock and removed her phone, quickly dialing a number. "He would have ruined everything, all my plans! Just because he didn't get his stupid TARDIS! Get off me, Collins!"

The dark haired man from before with the fancy technology had crept forward and grabbed the woman's arms from behind. "I'm holding her down for you, big guy," he said, chuckling nervously when the orderly frowned. "I mean, none of _us_ knew she'd done that- we haven't been stabbing people, right?"

"They're all criminals!" A student gave the rallying cry, and several peers joined in.

"They've been starving that poor alien—"

"They took out his _hearts_!"

"They should free the Doctor!" Aaron suggested at a particularly opportune moment, as all the teenagers cheered. The orderly stepped fully away from the operating table, instead taking both Griffiths and Collins by the forearms. Another orderly came down the steps of the viewing-room and took hold of Harris.

"Mr. Wilkins, there is a serious situation developing at the Institute, I think you should—w- wait, I've done nothing wrong! Please, you don't have to do this—"

Jenny couldn't help the short, amazed laugh that escaped her lips as she watched all this unfold. "Dad, you did it!" When she looked down at him, though, all she could see was simply how drained he was. His eyes had nearly slipped shut again, and the tired frown he wore worried her a good deal. "We should get you home- but you can't walk like this! And a vortex manipulator can't be good for you." His groan of agreement solidified that fact. "The TARDIS- well, I'm sure River has coordinates to the building by now, she could—"

"The key," he cut her off mid-rambling, and she blinked. "Do you have…the key?"

"Oh!" She exclaimed in understanding. One of the many things she had stored away in her pockets was the TARDIS key her father had left behind. River had given it to her, stating that if anyone should have it, it was her. "Here," she held it out and dropped it into his palm.

"Tell them…to clear the floor," he mumbled, before closing his fingers around it and squeezing with what little strength he had.

"Why—dad, we're not going to _atomize_ them, are we?" Jenny snapped her gaze to Aaron's face, or more specifically to the glasses he wore, and screamed, "Clear the floor!"

"What?" The boy tilted his head in confusion, and she shook hers.

"Not you, Aaron, the—" But the sound of wheezing, groaning engines cut her off, and the operating theatre faded out once, twice, and again so that she found herself standing next to her father's operating table, but on the floor of the TARDIS. And if she thought the ship had brightened for her when she first entered, that had been nothing compared to the way the lights literally began to shine and a joyful sounding hum emanated all around them.

But then her view was obscured by a mass of curls. "Oh thank goodness—never do that again, young lady!" River ordered, but the relief in her voice as she held her tightly made Jenny realize the older woman was not truly mad at her. And she likely had given them all a terrible fright.

"Sorry," she apologized, and her step-mum pulled back to offer her a watery smile. River's eyes were soon drawn, however, to what was behind her- who was behind her. "Doctor," she breathed, brushing past and instantly at his side. But Jenny couldn't help a sort of warm feeling inside; River Song had checked to make sure she was ok, too.

"Jenny, that was amazing!" Donna praised, taking her turn to give her a hug.

"Really?"

"Oh, you were brilliant!" The temp said, and she laughed a little in response. Martha offered a warm smile before she slipped past, and she didn't blame the woman. The medical professional in Dr. Jones was likely screaming at her to take immediate action. She was not surprised when Rory followed quickly after. Amy and Mickey approached on behalf of themselves and their spouses.

"You were fantastic, Jenny- wait till Jack hears," the man grinned, already dialing the Captain on his phone.

Amy embraced her. "You did it. Thank you." The redhead moved out of the way to allow Sarah Jane a turn, and both women remained when the brunette pulled back.

"We were all so worried," the journalist confided.

"Your step-granddad had to stop your step-mum from charging in there to rescue you," Amy quipped, and they all managed another small laugh.

"River, he's just asleep, I promise," Martha was saying in a calm voice, as Rory placed a steadying hand on the professor's shoulder.

"I'm still really, really worried," Jenny confessed in a low voice, and Amy nodded seriously.

"So are we. But we take it one step at a time, yeah?" She licked her lips once and nodded in agreement.

"Jack's demanding we come get him right now," Mickey announced, and River managed to tear herself away from her unconscious husband's side and run up the stair to the console. As the woman began initiating take-off, she glanced back over her shoulder.

"Jenny, be a dear and depress the input bar after I set the coordinates."

"Wait- you're going to teach me how to fly her?" She asked, taking a few tentative steps up to the console.

"I have to before he tries," she remarked, and Jenny raised an eyebrow as she did as her step-mum had requested. "Oh, and use the blue stabilizers. I will not have a jostling ship while he's in that condition." They looked up and exchanged serious glances before the two of them got to work, piloting the TARDIS.

**This is a bit shorter than the others, but it's such an important scene I think it deserves its own chapter. This also marks a bit of a turning point in the story, as the main conflict (i.e. Dr. Griffiths) has been overcome, and now there's all the fallout. So stay tuned, because this story is not over yet! Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Ok, so explosion of feedback! Thank you so much guys, and I'm glad you're all really happy. Well, right into the next chapter then!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Thirteen**

"Don't go pointing that at the sun, sweetheart, it's bad for your eyes," Wilfred Mott instructed, reaching forward with one hand to adjust the telescope. Mandy Smith-Jones pouted up at him.

"But it's the only thing up there! This is boring, I want to see stars."

"Well, the sun is a star," he chuckled good-naturedly. Lord knew neither Sylvia nor Donna had had much patience for his stargazing at that age. But when the little girl had asked to go outside, he hadn't been able to think of much else to do. So, with the infant Michelle cradled in his arms, Wilf had marched up the hill with Mandy.

When Donna had called to ask him to watch the Smith-Jones girls, he had immediately volunteered, happy to do his part to help. The young couple had wanted to be present for the reconnaissance mission, but had been worried about accidentally exposing their impressionable daughters to something sinister. Wilfred understood that fear, especially considering he himself was afraid- afraid for the Doctor.

This Wilkins Institute sounded like nothing but trouble, and he felt a growing sense of concern for the young-looking, ancient man he knew as a friend. Wilf attempted to distract himself by observing his charges.

Michelle was sweet as any baby her age. She'd blinked up at him in wide-eyed curiosity before going straight to sleep in his arms. Mandy had at first been very shy and quiet, far more soft-spoken than either of his girls. He liked to think she was speaking out more because she'd warmed up to him, though he knew it was more likely that the child did not feel intimidated by an old man. That was just as well, in his opinion.

"Can we go to the park?" She requested, not for the first time. Wilf shook his head patiently.

"I promised your parents we'd be right here when they got back." She sighed and he tried not to feel too bad. "And anyway, if we sit right here and wait, the sooner we hear news about the Doctor." He paused, giving her a considering look. "You've heard about him, haven't you? About the Doctor?"

She bobbed her head up and down in the affirmative. "Uh-huh. Mummy and Daddy tell me bedtime stories—he's my favorite! He's funny."

He smiled indulgently. "Yes, he's quite the amusing chap, isn't he. Well, right now he's in trouble, and your mum and dad are trying to help him."

"Mummy and Daddy help lots of people. I want to be like them when I grow up."

"You don't need to grow up to help people, sweetheart," he told her and she perked up.

"Really?"

"Well sure. If you just act kind and think of others, why, you'd do the world a whole lot of good. And I think you're already great at that."

She was smiling and puffed up in a pleased sort of way. A thought seemed to occur to her as she asked eagerly, "Do you think I could help Mummy and Daddy's friends?"

His smile faltered for a moment as he replied, "Why do you say that?"

"They look really sad," Mandy informed him. "And they cry a lot. I didn't know grown-ups cried…it's scary."

"Oh they do, sweetheart," he said, wrapping his free arm about her tiny shoulders and stroking her dark hair soothingly. "They don't mean to scare you. But grown-ups get scared just like you do."

"I hope they find the Doctor," she said in a small voice, "Cause maybe he'll be funny and make it better."

"He will, Mandy. Just you watch. The Doctor always makes things better."

"Mandy?" The voice of Mickey Smith called, startling Wilf. He'd been expecting to hear that funny noise the space ship always made. Fortunately, his sudden movement did not wake Michelle, and her older sister leapt up, giving a joyful squeal.

"Daddy!"

Wilf slowly got to his feet, but was soon hurrying down the hill behind the little girl, anxious to hear what the other man had to say.

Mickey had made it halfway up the hill before his daughter ran right into him. When the man scooped her up and placed a big kiss on her cheek, it gave him some hope.

"Thanks for watching them, Mr. Mott," he said as Wilf approached.

"It was no trouble, Mr. Smith," he returned, admittedly rushing the formalities. "But did you find out any more about that Wilkins Institute? Did they have him, the Doctor?"

"They did—and we've got him back!" Mickey grinned as the child in his arms gave a cheer.

"Well, that's wonderful! How is he, then?" He tried not to take it as a bad sign when the man seemed to sober.

"Not that good at all. But Martha's taking care of him, her and Rory."

"Is that why Mummy's not here?"

"Mummy's in the TARDIS, Mandy, but we can go say hi," the father assured, setting her down and taking Michelle from Wilfred's arms. He followed Mickey into the strange ship.

The first thing he noticed was the almost outrageous amount of noise and movement. It seemed that everyone was too excited to remain still. He noted to himself that the tall Captain, the young man with the long nose, and the Doctor were not present. Dr. Jones had just emerged from a corridor in a lab coat.

"Jack's moved the Doctor to the med bay, and Rory's doing more extensive checks. Starvation, dehydration, and fatigue are the primary concerns," the woman announced before crouching down to envelop her daughter in a hug. "Were you good for Mr. Mott?"

"Yes, Mummy," he heard the girl's response, muffled by her mother's shoulder. But then Wilf found his own arms occupied in an embrace.

"Oh! Donna, love," he realized, rubbing circles in her back as she was physically shaking.

"Gramps, it's just awful. I mean, I always said he was a stick- but he just looks terrible! I don't know how we're ever going to fix him."

"Well now, take it easy, Donna. I'm sure your friends have got a plan, they're medical professionals," he reasoned, but held her through her tears. He knew that his poor granddaughter was just emotionally distraught, and that sometimes she needed a shoulder to cry on when she was too tired to shout at the world. The least he could do for her was to be that shoulder right now, for it sounded like the Doctor would not be up for that role.

The female doctor had disappeared once more, to be replaced by Captain Harkness. He heard the man mutter darkly to Mickey, "I honestly think Martha could have carried the Doc herself. He weighs nothing."

Donna had released him by this point and wiped her eyes, speaking with confidence once again. "Well, we'll just have to work on that. Did those two medics say anything to you, Jack?"

"Not much, but I think they're definitely going to start with getting him back on track weight-wise," the man guessed.

"So it'll be like Gregory then, right? Water and liquids," Amy Pond spoke up from a spot by Sarah Jane Smith. The two women appeared to have been discussing what to do with an abandoned metal table standing in the middle of the floor. They all nodded in agreement with her logic.

"Was he awake when you left?" Sarah Jane asked, but the Captain shook his head. "I suppose we'll have to wait and see what Martha and Rory decide," the woman sighed. Once again, people began to break off into conversations.

"Come on, there's someone I want you to meet," Donna said with a small smile, and he followed his granddaughter up the steps to the strange control panel the Doctor used to pilot his machine when he was well. Now at the helm stood two women; River Song and a younger, blonde girl he did not recognize. "Gramps, this is Jenny. Jenny, this is my granddad."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Mott," Jenny gave a somewhat strained smile, but held out her hand politely for him to shake.

"Wilfred or Wilf is fine," he offered, "It's what everyone else uses, anyway." This at least earned him another smile from her. Now that he thought of it, the name sounded familiar- hadn't Donna been telling him and Sylvia a story about someone named Jenny once? And she reminded him a bit of someone.

"Gramps," Donna prompted after a pause. "Remember when I was telling you about how the Doctor, Martha, and I were on this planet where they sort of forced his arm in that machine and it made a person?"

"It's ringing some bells," he said, recalling his amazement at the time. To think that humans would have that technology in the future, it was simply mind-boggling.

"Well this is her. His daughter," she finished.

"His daughter- well, that's good isn't it, you thought she'd been killed. Has he seen you yet?"

"Yeah, he did," she said. "But I have to wait to see what he really says about it." The girl sighed. "River's been showing me how to fly the TARDIS." He looked past her to see the curly-headed woman working some controls, and he had to wonder if it was less out of necessity than as a means for distraction from her thoughts or of what she'd seen. He did not even have a mental image to go with the horrible descriptions the others had mentioned and he was having trouble not thinking about it.

"I knew you'd find him, just like I said," he smiled warmly at her, and the woman seemed to relax some.

"Yes, you did. Thank you." She looked at him with gratitude.

"Oh, well it wasn't much," he hastened to say, touched by the sincerity in her tone.

"But I needed to hear it then," she insisted, before her smile diminished slowly. "All this time we were talking about how to get him back, and now that he is back I'm afraid we're just as lost as before."

He wished he could offer her words of comfort once again. But Wilf wasn't sure he knew what to say.

OoO

Martha stepped through the doors as they slid open, seeing Rory look up and nod once at her. "I've let the others know what's going on," she told him.

"That's good." They were both silent a moment as she joined him, their eyes drawn to their patient.

This was the absolute worst she'd seen the Doctor. And perhaps the worst case of starvation she'd seen. As a UNIT doctor, Martha usually dealt with injuries or occasionally sickness. When Gregory Jenkins had been placed under her care the previous year, she'd hoped that would be the last time she would see a body so emaciated. Yet the Doctor had only been missing a fraction of the time, and he looked far worse.

"We'll have to wait for him to wake up to give him water, but we should start start an IV for foods," she instructed, and Rory went to retrieve the proper supplies from the ship's stores. "Honestly, I wish I could just give him something to make him sleep until he's better," she confided softly, knowing the other had heard her when he paused in his rummaging.

"Me too."

Martha sighed, taking up the Doctor's wrist to feel his double-pulse. It was weaker than it should be, but steady, and that reassured her some. The brittle quality of his wrist bone, however, did not, and she gently placed it back on the bed Jack had set him down in. She had to wonder if he could even lift his arm on his own. After they got him eating properly again, then they would have to work on building his body back up strength-wise.

This is what she had been worried about when talking to Sarah Jane. Finding the Doctor had turned out to be only the first battle. Healing him looked like it was going to be an equally challenging struggle.

"Rory, do you think you could go get River?" She requested as he returned and started setting up the IV. An uncertain look crossed his features.

"I thought we didn't really want anyone in here until we'd worked everything out."

"I know, but I think we need her help to work everything out. Think about it, he's been nearly starved to death, Rory. But how is that possible? There's so much we don't know about Time Lords- but she does. I don't want to make her see this either," she added, as he still looked a bit apprehensive. "But the sooner we know what exactly is going on, the better."

"Alright," he agreed, her logic seeming to sway him, and he left to retrieve his daughter.

"I hope she'll be able to tell us something, Doctor," Martha murmured. It wasn't as though she'd never seen the alien injured before. There had even been a rather harrowing time in 1913 when John Smith had come down with a very serious bout of influenza and the matron had been away visiting family. But these facts didn't stop her from worrying.

When the two returned, she noticed the way River's eyes immediately jumped to her husband. "River, Rory and I have started him on an IV, but I just don't understand. How did he get so bad? If he kept regenerating, shouldn't it have healed him?"

River sighed. "Regeneration is just a form of energy, Martha, that's why they were able to convert it. But energy has to come from somewhere—from the Time Lord himself. It manifests itself in different ways, fatigue, hunger, sometimes delirium, but you always see some sort of effect it has. I can't say for sure- it's never happened before –but if regeneration is forced over and over again, with no break to recharge or rest, then that loss or energy takes its toll in a physical way." The professor stepped forward, re-tucking him in except for the arm with the IV attached. But when she brushed her fingers through his unkempt hair, the Doctor gave a shudder. River's hands fell away from him.

"There's something else I want to talk about," Martha said after a moment. "And it's going to be hard, but we all heard him—he didn't want to leave." River flinched at the words.

"Maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome," Rory suggested, and it sounded valid. "But then, I suppose he wouldn't have turned Griffiths in."

"He did that because Jenny forced his hand," River said in a low voice. "We're not allowed careers when the Doctor's around, not if it means we're hurt. But it doesn't matter if he's hurt." She had to feel awful for the woman, torn between frustration and admiration of her husband's stubbornness.

"I think Stockholm Syndrome's a bit too simplified," she decided. "Point is, I'm worried about what sort of state he's going to be in when he wakes up- mentally speaking."

"Well, he's not necessarily the most stable bloke in the first place," Rory pointed out. "But, we should definitely make that a top concern," he amended hastily, as both woman frowned at him. "How exactly do you treat a Time Lord for a mental condition, anyway?"

Martha shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

OoO

Sleep was boring. Sleep was nothingness. Sleep was _terrifying_.

He fought it all the way, struggling to blink his eyes open in the bright room. It was similar, and yet so very different from all the rest, all the rooms it felt like he had ever known. And all at once he panicked.

He had the oddest sensation that he was sinking, drowning in swaths of cloth and being sucked into the softness at his back, not cold and metal like what he'd known for so long. And yet it was warm, and some calm little voice in his head was trying to tell him that that was a good thing, that beds were normal, beds were cool, and that people slept in beds all the time.

But he wasn't people.

And then there was that familiar poking feeling, an IV stuck in his arm. But they'd stopped the IV ages ago, stopped the burning, don't make him go back to the burning because it was already so warm in here and get these covers off!

Abruptly, a soothing, gentle hum started up in the back of his mind, and he stopped, entranced by it. The TARDIS…his ship, he was on his ship.

And the Doctor didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

The doors of his ship's med bay slid open, and in walked Martha Jones. She was like a vision. A vision of what, he hadn't decided yet.

"Martha," he gasped out, and she gave a start, rushing to his bedside.

"Doctor!"

"What…how?" He had so many questions. What was Martha doing here? No one had been looking for him. Except Jenny. "Jenny," he rasped, eyes darting about because it was just too exhausting to even think about lifting his head. "Where's—"

"Shh, don't talk so much, you're going to strain your vocal chords," the female doctor said, going to a sink set at the side of the room, and he heard the sound of running water. Water, when was the last time he'd had that? "Just a little at a time," she cautioned, holding a cup to his lips.

He tentatively darted his tongue out, capturing just a few droplets. They were cool, and though his brain knew they were tasteless, they were the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. So he gulped it down, tiny mouthful after tiny mouthful, dictated by her slow tilting of the cup.

"Where's Jenny?" Was his first question. He couldn't help it was the first thing on his mind. His daughter, he'd thought her dead- and yet she'd appeared so suddenly and with so much _life_. He had the fleeting thought that perhaps it had all been in his head.

"She's asleep. We finally convinced her after two days," Martha shook her head a bit, a tiny smile on her face.

"Two days? Have I been asleep that long?" It didn't feel like he had, and why was he still so tired?

"Closer to three, actually," she corrected, "but that's fine. Your body needed the rest. And so did you."

"Do I need this, too?" He asked, making a face as with great effort he shook the arm injected with the IV. He didn't like not knowing what was in there, what was going into him.

"It's food, so yes," she reached out and placed a steadying hand on his wrist. Stopping its movement. Restraining it. He went rigid and whatever expression came to his face caused her to withdraw sharply. "Sorry, Doctor I'm not trying to hurt you. It's ok, just relax."

He finally managed it after letting her calming voice wash over him, actually reach his brain. Of course she wasn't here to hurt him. This was Martha Jones—how could he be such an idiot? And yet, he kept glancing out of the corners of his eyes for a table of sharp instruments, expecting to find one. What was wrong with him?

"How- how bad am I?" The Doctor asked at last, noting that his voice was gradually loosing that hoarse quality of disuse. It still hardly sounded like his own.

"You've lost far too much weight, your immune system has weakened, your body overall is very weak. Hopefully, we can take this out within the next couple of days," she added, gesturing to the IV tube, "but it'll be a while before you can eat solids."

"If I were human, I'd be dead," he remarked, taking that information all in.

"You _did_ die, Doctor. I saw it," she replied, a slight frown on her face.

"But not really."

"She removed your hearts. I think that's as close as it gets to really," Martha persisted.

"What will happen to them?" For some reason she looked relieved at his question.

"Griffiths is being detained. It's simply a matter of deciding how sane she is before they place her anywhere. Some of the others will receive jail time, but most are being given heavy fines and having their licenses revoked. No one's going to hurt you again, not like they did." She stood, heading for the door again. "I'm going to go get Rory, and then we can talk about how to get you up and about as soon as possible." He nodded once, and Martha left.

Charlene and the others had been stopped. No one was going to hurt him, open him up, and use him like they did. His organs, his lifeblood, would no longer be taken from him to be given to someone else. He was safe here.

The Doctor did cry. Because it hadn't been the Wilkins Institute he was asking about.

**So now the Doctor's awake, and next chapter you'll see them start working to help him recover. Thanks so much for all the reviews, follows, favorites, and C2s guys, I'm amazed! So once again, thank you for reading, and please review!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Ok, so took a break to type a couple oneshots, but I was simultaneously writing this, so no time wasted. Yay! Thanks once again for all your support—over a hundred reviews?! You guys are _amazing_! I hope this was worth the wait!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Fourteen**

She sat in the swing under the console, pushing herself back and forth with her feet. River just couldn't stay up there with the rest of them, constantly fretting. Martha had hurried in what seemed both minutes and ages ago, explaining in a rush that the Doctor was awake before running back with Rory. She knew there wasn't really anything to worry about—the two medical professionals would do everything in their power to aid her husband's physical recovery.

But she was putting a lot of thought into the conversation she'd had with Dr. Jones and her father. If anyone knew what it was like living in captivity, constantly being fed lies until they became the truth, it was her, Melody Pond. But just what had the Doctor been told and how much was he choosing to believe? She was resolved to help him through it, just as he had saved her from her own delusions in Berlin.

She heard heavier footfalls approach down the corridor. Her father, then.

"Is Jenny awake?" He asked the ones that remained above.

Her mother answered. "No, I just checked on her. Poor girl ran herself ragged until now." She could tell by the fondness in Amy's tone that the Scottish woman had grown attached to her sort-of granddaughter. "Do you need me to wake her?"

"No," Rory replied. "He wants to talk to River, then."

The room was silent as she slowly ascended the stairs. No one looked begrudging, though she was sure they were just as eager to see him. Donna offered an encouraging smile as she helped Mandy with a puzzle.

"You take as long as you need," her mother instructed in a soft voice. "We can wait."

"If Jenny wakes up, you send her right in," she instructed. River wanted the girl to be absolutely sure she was welcome. It was her right, after all.

She followed her father the short distance to the med bay and they stopped outside.

"He's pretty tired, but aware," he told her.

"Thank you, dad." She placed a light kiss to his cheek and entered, closing the door quietly behind her.

He was still terribly thin, but not to the point of being on his deathbed. Perhaps afraid of damaging him somehow, they'd left him on his back, so that he was straining just a little to look at her across the room. But his eyes still lacked that fundamental spark to them. River took the seat beside his bed and said, at exactly the same time as him, "I'm sorry."

They both stared at each other a moment, before he blinked in surprise and she laughed.

"You—"

"No, you first, my love," she instructed. It was the least she could do.

He licked his lips once and began. "River, I'm sorry. I knew how much you hate it when I do things on my own—I knew that. But I couldn't let them get to you. I'm sorry if I worried you."

"If?" She couldn't help repeating, and sighed. Such a daft, old man. "Of course I was worried, Doctor. But all that time we were looking for you, I never blamed you."

"You were looking for me?"

"Yes," she affirmed, taking his hand between hers. She didn't feel insulted by his doubt, for she knew the despair of being alone, of thinking that no one cared. "And I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner."

When she felt his fingers twitch slightly, his weak attempt at squeezing her hand back, River smiled warmly. But there was one more thing she had to get off her chest.

"Doctor, I also want to say how sorry I am—the way I treated you before—"

"How do you mean?" And she felt thrown by the puzzled look on his hollowed face. Had his memory been affected? "What, you mean that bit about saying hello to Colonel Mace? What are you bothered about that for?"

She gaped at him. "What am I—the last thing I said to you, and it was stupid!"

"River, I shudder to think what would become of me if you held me accountable for every stupid thing I ever said to you. And, turned out you were right, so, stupid me for you." He gave a self-depreciatory grimace, but it was subdued. Everything about him was subdued.

She had the thought that it had been her parents who were truly right about this whole thing, yet she couldn't help insisting, "If I'd just gone with you—"

"We might have both been caught," he pointed out. "But you let everyone know. You saved me."

"Jenny saved you," she corrected, raising a brow when a nervous look crossed his face.

"Ehm, yes- Jenny…River, how do you like her?" He looked the most invested in this question out of all the others he'd made, which showed just how carefully-worded her answer had to be.

"Well—"

"Because she's amazing if you just give her the chance, but I understand if- well, she's so very sudden and I don't want to impose, impose, er, parenthood or- or—" he'd talked too much and began to cough from the discomfort of a dry throat. She was up and back in a flash with a glass of water, perched on the side of his bed and holding his hand through it. River helped her husband to take measured sips as she answered his concerns.

"She's unexpected, my love, but that doesn't change the fact that she's your daughter. That's enough on its own for me to love her. And Jenny's a wonderful girl. She helped me through all this more than I did her, I believe. But thank you for considering my feelings, Sweetie." That part of him was clearly unchanged, his consideration for others, and she took heart that maybe their fears had been unfounded or exaggerated.

So she smiled down at him settled into the pillows now that his inquires about Jenny had been satisfied, and said, "Dad and Martha have everything worked out. But my diagnosis is that you are in bad need of a shave. And definitely a haircut." To test it, she just barely brushed his fringe with her fingertips. He went completely still under her touch, like a frightened animal, and if he'd had the strength she thought he would have shrunk back or leaned away, so she withdres, working to keep her expression neutral.

But he must have seen some amount of hurt on her face. "River- sorry. I'm sorry, I just—can't." His eyes squeezed shut and he turned his face just slightly from her.

"Oh my love," she did her best to soothe, taking up his hand again as that had been deemed safe. "It's not your fault."

"It just- she—" he struggled to articulate and she wished she knew what exactly had happened, that he associated such a tender action with fear and pain. "That's all there was. And I just didn't feel otherwise. I- I don't know if I know _how_ to feel anymore."

Her hearts clenched painfully, but she swallowed and said, "I know."

He opened his eyes again, regret clear on his emaciated features. "If course you do—oh, what's wrong with me?"

"Shh, I'm not blaming you for my past, Doctor," she assured, not willing to allow his guilt complex to distract her from the matter at hand. "But I can help you. Please, talk to me."

He was quiet for some time, to the point where she wondered if he'd just chosen to ignore her. But then he remarked idly, "She never raised her voice at me, you know. Not once. Completely, perfectly civil. I think I might have preferred it if she had."

"She hurt you quite enough without that," River couldn't keep from observing. "Politeness can't excuse that."

"You right of course, And I know Jenny was right, I didn't- I never wanted that to happen, never wanted them to hurt me. But I don't want to hurt them."

"Them?" She echoed, before it clicked. "The organ recipients?" He nodded and she sighed. "No one is hurting them, my love."

"But no one is helping them."

"Doctor—"

"I'm tired, River," he stated in a near-monotone.

"I- of course, Sweetie. Get some rest." A bit reluctantly, she rose to her feet as his breathing evened out into sleep. River stopped in the doorway, watching her husband's pale face, before turning down the lights and leaving the room.

OoO

"Doctor, I just need you to do it again. One more time, and I swear I'll leave you alone the rest of the day," Rory coaxed, and the Time Lord gave an agitated exhale through his nose. But at least he actually complied. The Doctor grit his teeth and raised his leg on his own power, sweat breaking out on his forehead as Rory counted.

"…nine, ten." The alien's leg dropped before he'd even finished saying the number, and his breath was labored. "Ok, good," he congratulated anyway.

The Doctor gave a snort. "Hardly."

"Considering you could barely move a muscle without needing to sleep for a few hours, I would have to disagree," Rory countered.

"Yes, well, I'd like to sleep now, if you don't mind," the other grumbled.

"Right, well I did promise," he sighed, shutting the door behind him. Martha was coming the opposite way down the hall, but he shook his head, stopping her progress.

"The same as usual?" She asked with a frown when he joined her and they started back the way she'd come.

"Yep. He does the exercises, but it's like he doesn't really want to. I don't think he'd bother if we didn't force him."

"I just don't understand _why_," his colleague remarked. "Lying in a bed all day with nothing to do- that's the kind of thing that'd drive him mad."

"I know. River's starting to really worry," he told her, his frown deepening just thinking about it. "I hate to say it, but it's like Griffiths just took out his motivation, too."

"I was thinking the same thing," she admitted. "But, I think it's more than that. Because, he'll hold a conversation just fine- for the most part. But as soon as you start talking about getting him up and moving again—"

"He clams up," he finished, nodding along. "He's not interested in getting better."

"It seems that way," she agreed glumly.

It wasn't as if Rory had never dealt with difficult patients before. That happened all the time. But usually they were being difficult because they didn't want to be there and wanted to leave as soon as possible. For the Doctor, it seemed to be the opposite.

Saying that he was refusing to cooperate was a bit of a generalization, for there was one person who could get the Doctor to willingly participate in his own recovery: Jenny. Sure, the Time Lord would complain of fatigue and sometimes snap at her, but his daughter only had to ask once. Compared to the cajoling Rory had to complete, it was an incredible achievement.

He understood it. After all, he did everything he could to make River happy. He had discussed his observations with Mickey, as he figured the other father would most easily relate.

"Oh sure, I mean I can't even bare to think about letting Mandy down. I expect it's only going to get worse once Michelle's older," the man had said. "It's like, I want them to feel like I'm there for them if they need me, and they can go to me for anything. And dads have to impress their daughters, cause that's the standard they hold other blokes to. So the better job you do, the better the man she'll eventually break your heart for. Gives you some peace of mind at least."

"That's ridiculous," Jack had been listening in and scoffed. "Girls don't want guys like their fathers. Do they?" He'd added as the two had exchanged glances.

"I mean, just speaking from experience, but I'm technically an over two-thousand year-old time traveler who's in the process of becoming a doctor…and my daughter married a twelve-hundred year-old time traveler whose name is just 'the Doctor'."

Jack had blinked. "Wow. I did not even notice that before. Scary."

"Yep."

"There's more to it than just that, though," Mickey had added, and the Captain had started to look a bit fearful. "Cause you have to act tough with sons or people think you're soft or something. But with daughters, nobody cares if you show how much you love them. And you have to work harder to win them over since they already love mum."

Rory had nodded, remembering days long gone when Amy and Mels had played prank after prank on him as children. But Mels had always rewarded him with a hug when he endured it.

"Ok, enough, you're freaking me out," Jack had finally said. "I'm never having kids now, thanks Mickey Mouse. But, I think I'm getting the basic idea—we exploit the Doc's paternal weakness."

"Er, I guess?" He had said uncertainly at the time. Now, he was beginning to think it was the only option.

Entering the console room, Rory and Martha found Jenny with River at the controls, which was unsurprising. Whatever time she was forced to spend apart from her father- either when he was asleep or he instructed her to do something 'more productive' with her time –she received lessons on piloting the TARDIS. It seemed to be good for both her and her adopted mother, for River was visibly happier during these times.

What was surprising to him was the image currently on the screen—Aaron Wood in what appeared to be a library.

The red-haired boy must have seen him, for he said, "Er, Jenny," and pointed over the girl's shoulder. She and River turned.

"Oh, Martha and Rory!" The platinum blonde called in greeting before her face scrunched up. "Hang on, should I call you Rory? Technically you're my step-grandfather, but that's just too long, isn't it? Would you prefer granddad? I could add the 'step' if that makes you more comfortable—oh, but humans your age don't like to be reminded they're getting older. Sorry! Maybe—yes, mum?" She stopped rambling as River had placed a hand on her shoulder, allowing him to attempt to work through everything she'd just said.

"I'm sure Rory is just fine," his daughter answered for him.

"Right," he agreed readily. "Um, hi Aaron. How—"

"How is Aaron Wood on the screen?" Jenny asked for him, skipping up two stairs at a time to stand between him and Martha. "Well, I had to leave the special glasses in his care and I figured since they were already hooked up to the TARDIS matrix, a simple reverse feedback loop through the visual sensors would allow Aaron to see us just as we can see through the glasses. So then he did some jiggery-pokery over there with linking the glasses up to the library mainframe—I really do need to go and have a look at that—so now we can converse."

"So, it's like Skype, then?" He asked after a minute.

"Skype!" She sounded almost insulted.

"I don't think the TARDIS has that," Martha agreed. "I'm still surprised there's a phone."

"Well it is a phone box," he noted.

"Anyway," Jenny spoke over them, going back to the monitor. He and Martha went to join her and River. "Aaron, what's been happening out there? We've all been a bit preoccupied."

"Oh, well, they've shut the Wilkins Institute down," the boy replied, and Rory felt quite relieved to receive that news. "Of course, nobody knows the real reason. Our Headmaster called me and Jess in and forbid us to talk to any media- doesn't want the school connected with it. I expect the other schools have done the same. So the news chalked it up as illegal experiments on mammals and now PETA's having riots."

"PETA?" Several of them repeated, incredulous.

"Somehow, I don't think Time Lords fall under their mission statement," he remarked. Aaron shrugged.

"Well, they're demonstrating. But how is—" Suddenly, Molly Pines walked into the frame behind the teenager.

"Aaron, I'm going with Ron to lun—oh!"

"Hello, Molly," Jenny said, giving a little wave. "Sorry I sort of quit all of a sudden."

"No, that's um, fine, Aaron told us- Ron!" The tall, sandy-haired man joined them, giving a startled jump upon seeing them on the screen.

"Woah. Um, hi again," he offered to the group at large. "We heard about what was happening."

"Right, so how is he?" Aaron finally got to ask. He and Martha exchanged a glance.

"Physically, on the mend," she informed them. "But, we're having some issues with getting him to actually care about his own health."

He was shocked to see the two adults roll their eyes. "Tell me about it," the Doctor's former flat mate commiserated. "If we ever ran low on groceries, John just wouldn't eat so I'd have something instead."

"Half the time you didn't have groceries it was because he kept paying everybody's late fees at the library. And if he was there but it wasn't his shift, he'd put money in the tip jar," Molly added, shaking her head at the memory of John Smith's antics.

"And one time, I had a couple mates stay over- he took the floor. He was rolling his shoulders and rubbing at his back for a week," Ron recalled, chuckling a bit.

"Don't forget that bit with the pipe," Aaron mentioned, and they all nodded.

"We all know my dad does stuff for other people even if it hurts him," Jenny summarized. "But he's the only one that's hurt!"

"The only one _here_ that's hurt," River corrected gently. "And I think he's forgotten that."

"Well," Ron sighed after a bit, "we've got to go eat."

"And I have to man the desk- they're letting me do that by myself, now," Aaron said.

"Let us know if there's anything we can do," Molly requested, her pretty face sad.

"We will," Jenny promised, and shut off the connection, turning to face him and Martha. "Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Er- yeah. Jenny, your dad's not being very cooperative with things, at least when we're working with him. Could you try maybe talking to him about that?" Rory asked. "Cause it would really help if we knew what was wrong."

"Of course," she agreed quickly, before giving a somewhat hopeful look. "Do you think that'll get things back to normal?"

"I really don't know," he answered as nicely as he could, not wanting to upset the girl. "But it's the best plan we've got."

**I think I'll post this now so you guys have more to read. So, they're running into some issues on how to get the Doctor back to his usual self. These will be further discussed, and solved, in the next chapters. Thanks once again for reading, and please review!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Ok, so straight to work on the next chapter. I'm glad you guys enjoyed the last one, and I hope you'll like this one.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Come on, dad, just lean on me a little more," Jenny urged, and Amy felt the weight she was supporting shift just slightly off her. Their three-man chain very slowly shuffled, pivoting to face the other way. Once that was completed, they began slowly making their way back.

"It's not too far now, Doctor," she encouraged, using her free hand to pat his bony shoulder. His was gasping for breath, and so she was surprised when he actually said something in reply.

"I- haven't been this…winded…since the Himalayas!"

"When did you go to the Himalayas?" Jenny asked, sounding like a child who wanted to hear a bedtime story. Well, Amy supposed the Doctor's travels would make excellent bedtime stories.

"Ohh, long time ago- terrible trip, absolutely…Marco Polo was a real stick in the mud," he grumbled.

"Ok, here we are," Amy announced as they finally reached the bed. Gingerly, she and Jenny slowly lowered him down so he was sitting back against the pillows. The blonde then helped her father lift his feet up and over so that they were resting on the mattress.

"You did it, dad!"

"That wasn't so bad, yeah?" She added. Five full circuits of the room, a new record. "Want some water?"

"Yes- yes, thank you, Pond," he responded. She fetched a glass and ran it under the faucet for a bit, coming back to see him holding out his hand for it. Amy gave it to him and the Time Lord took long gulps of water.

"Doctor?"

"Hm?" He glanced up at her.

"Not so bad?" She repeated.

"Oh, no it wasn't so bad. Where's that Roman of yours got off to? He's the one always bothering me."

"He's not doing it to be a bother, dad," Jenny admonished slightly.

"Rory had to step out to call his dad. And Martha will be back with Mickey once their meeting's over." Now that the Wilkins Institute was no more, the funding the organization had appropriated could now be returned to UNIT, and as such the two soldiers were meeting to discuss what would happen to them.

"Dad," Jenny led in cautiously.

"Yes, Jenny?"

"Amy, mum, and I were wondering- now that you can sit up properly, if we could do something about your hair? We think you'll feel much more like yourself without that awful scruff."

The little smile that had appeared on his face after Jenny had used the term 'mum' for River vanished as he swallowed nervously. "Well, I don't know…" But she could see his resolve weakening under the girl's large, pleading eyes.

"Jenny, why don't you go and get River, and I'll get your father into a chair," she suggested gently, and the other nodded before rising and leaving the room. With a bit of a groan, the Doctor allowed her to ease him back onto his feet and they began the slow journey to the chair. "Ok, Raggedy Man, talk to me," she said.

"My daughter and the Pond women ganging up on me, eh?" He puffed, dragging his feet slightly as they edged around the chair and he slowly sat down.

"Just the Pond women," she corrected pointedly, and it took him a moment to blink and realize what she meant.

"Ah, thank you for that, Amy," he said softly, and she smiled back at him, kneeling on the floor so as to get more on his level.

"It's just a shave and a haircut," she said, "Nothing too difficult about that."

"I know. It's just- the _blades_, Amelia," his eyes shut tightly, and she felt herself go pale.

"Oh, Doctor, I'm sorry," she apologized, "I'll just tell them—"

"No, no, I- I'll be fine," he placed his hand on her shoulder, stopping her from rising. "I look quite silly like this, don't I? And I don't want to disappoint Jenny."

"All she wants is for you to get better," she told him.

"I am better," he countered, and she sighed in frustration.

"You're not healthy just yet."

"Yes, but I won't die from it," he snapped.

"Why, do you want to?" She retorted, and then gasped when he looked away. She reached out, just barely touching his shoulder. "Doctor? Doctor, please- please, say something—"

"I just don't see why _I_ get to live," he whispered.

"Because it shouldn't have happened. They should have never done those things to you, Doctor. Don't- don't think like that." She felt rather foolish as her eyes welled up with tears, but through the blurriness he saw him turn his head back to her.

"You're right…there's no point if I'm dead. Oh- Amy, I'm sorry. Don't cry, please," he begged, but she shook her head even as she wiped at her eyes.

"I can't help it, not when you say things like that," she argued, but it lacked the biting tone she usually applied to it.

"Then I won't say them anymore, I promise." She managed at last to dry her eyes and found him looking at her worriedly. "Ok?"

Amy reached a hand up slowly, giving him enough time to react if he wanted. The Doctor stayed still, but his eyes tracked her hand warily as it rose to push his too-long fringe from his forehead. She leaned in and pressed a kiss there. "Ok."

River and Jenny entered shortly after, and Amy watched him closely as he tensed up when his wife produced a pair of scissors.

"We don't have to do this," River reminded. "But trust me?" He gulped and nodded once. Jenny went to kneel on his other side, and Amy saw him surreptitiously slide his hand into hers. She curled her own fingers around his other hand, a twitch of the lips upward the only sign he gave that he noticed.

Even if she hadn't heard the snip of the scissors, she would have known when River began simply by the way his hand clenched hers tightly and his eyes went wide. But all that happened was that a lock of brown hair fell to the floor. His shoulders had stiffened and risen to near his ears, though, which would make things more difficult.

"Dad, could you tell me about the Himalayas and Marco Polo now?" Jenny piped up from his other side, and his eyes darted down to her face.

"Oh- well, I suppose," he said. "You're going to have to give me a moment to think- it was really quite a long time ago, Jenny." As he said it, his shoulders slowly lowered and the fear became less evident on his face. "The TARDIS had broken, and we were stuck on the mountain when his caravan found us."

"That was some good luck," Amy observed, but he grimaced. She thought a minute that her interruption had reminded him of the scissors at the back of his neck, but instead he continued with his tale.

"Not really, Pond. He confiscated her."

"The TARDIS?" Jenny asked, enthralled. She had to smile at the girl's open enthusiasm, for Amy felt that was such a large part of how she managed to get the Doctor to do anything. He valued that happiness above all else, even his own inner turmoil, of which Amy felt she'd only scratched the surface just minutes ago.

"Yes," he clarified. "It really was a rather difficult time, we had to travel by horse all the way to the Khan's palace. I did win the sacred tooth of Buddha, though."

"How?" She asked incredulously.

"Well, backgammon of course," he replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Amy shook her head; of course it was, with the Doctor anyway.

"You forgot to mention that you failed to win back the TARDIS, Sweetie," River spoke up at last, coming around to trim his bangs.

"Yes, well, I did get her back," he dismissed.

"You did," she agreed calmly, setting the scissors down. Amy grew a bit worried as the Doctor would be unable to talk with a razor being taken to his face, yet they needed to distract him.

"Jenny," she said, an idea forming in her mind. "What about your travels? I'll bet you have loads of interesting ones."

"Yes, what did you do after you left Messaline?" River asked, finished preparing the Doctor's face for the blade.

"Oh, well I only had a rocket, so I was sort of limited in where I could go," she started in a way that only a Time Lord could without sounding ridiculous. "But as soon as I got my vortex manipulator, I went everywhere! And it's all so wonderful, what with all those new worlds out there—but I don't recommend the third moon of Styraxi, I stopped off there and it was rubbish."

"Ha!" River had to stop when he barked a laugh, and crossed her arms at his smug grin.

"I do not understand you two; it is _the_ place for an archeological dig. The Styanites exported political prisoners there for centuries, you can clearly follow the progression of civilization by—"

"But it's so boring," Jenny whined, and the Doctor made an approving harrumph sort of noise as River was now holding his chin to keep him from moving. "No one wants to _be_ on Styraxi, mum, it's just depressing going there."

"Aw, but I'll bet there's some creepy catacombs," Amy said somewhat jokingly.

"They're pretty creepy if you get trapped in them," Jenny replied, quite serious.

"Oh. Well, I hope you weren't being attacked by an army of Weeping Angels, at least," she said.

"No. But that at least sounds kind of fun. More exciting than a bunch of Styanites."

"That is no laughing matter, young lady," River scolded, using a towel to wipe off what remained of the lather from her husband's face. Jenny pouted and looked to him.

"Oh, well, ehm," now that he could speak again, he glanced once at River's expectant face. "Weeping Angels really shouldn't be something to joke about, Jenny. Best to listen to River, eh?" He freed one of his hands to pat the girl on the head once, before taking that same hand and feeling his newly clean-shaven face.

"Better?" Amy prompted.

"Much," he nodded once. "That would've been as bad as Area 52 if it'd kept on."

"Hm, the last time I saw you with a beard was 1969 and Neil Armstrong's foot," River remarked.

"Well, that's different firsts and lasts for you," he acknowledged.

"Yes," she agreed sadly, and he blanched.

"River, I didn't mean—"

"It's alright, my love. After all, I was wrong," she said, attempting a casual shrug. Amy watched with a frown, for while those days of front-to-back and spoilers were over, they'd still taken their toll, on all of them.

"But you thought you were right," he argued softly, taking a breath before saying, "Come here."

"Doctor, are you sure?" The professor asked carefully, very aware of and saddened by how apprehensive the alien was about physical contact these days. But he nodded, resolute. So River leaned in slowly and softly pressed her lips to his.

It wasn't spectacularly intimate, and Amy's attention was drawn not to them, but to Jenny. While she as a child had fled when her parents started to show just a hint of attraction towards each over, the blonde girl was avidly watching the other two. It took Amy a moment to realize, but when she did she felt that moisture gathering behind her eyelids, that this was likely the first time Jenny had ever seen her parents kiss.

When her daughter straightened up, the Doctor was a bit short of breath once again and his cheeks had regained some of their usual color simply because they had flushed rather red. Amy decided to take pity on him.

"Let's get you up, yeah?" He took her arm, Jenny hurrying to do likewise, and rose from the chair.

"Maybe we could go out—" The girl suggested, but he shook his head.

"No, no, I think this is quite enough for today, Jenny," the Time Lord disagreed, and River gave her shoulder a squeeze as they had slumped. So they guided him back to the bed, but he'd scarcely reached it before frowning and saying, "There is a child running about my TARDIS."

"What?" Amy blinked. Did he have some sort of sixth sense for these things?

"I can hear her giggling," he explained, and when she listened, sure enough a child's high-pitched laughter could be heard echoing through the halls, getting louder until the door slid open. In ran Mandy Smith-Jones.

OoO

When they entered the conference room, Mickey was a bit surprised to see not just the Colonel, but a woman he recognized: Kate Stewart, the head of UNIT's science division.

"Kate," Martha said in some bewilderment, but also as a greeting. The two women had talked before, as some of the work Martha did fell under the science division, and they got along quite well.

For her part, she offered them a smile. "Martha, Mickey, have a seat."

"Well," Colonel Mace began once they had done so, "while I admire the loyalty that prompted you both to remain behind, as a result you are not up to date on what is happening at UNIT."

"We know they've given the funding back," Mickey told him.

"Yes, and that was quite a relief. However, over the past few days, my superiors have been in talks. We are concerned that the government deemed us unnecessary in a time of crisis, and are looking to make us seem as vital as they saw the Wilkins Institute."

Mickey tensed and saw Martha do the same beside him. Just what did that mean?

"Not by emulating the experiments of the Wilkins Institute," Kate Stewart intervened, and he was able to relax again. "However, one of their main principles is worth looking into. Instead of our first reaction to something alien being shooting it, we should see what we can learn. We are the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, after all, unless someone changed the 'I' on me when I wasn't looking."

He exchanged a look with Martha. "That makes sense," his wife said. "I mean, what sort of image are we projecting to the universe out there?"

"Yeah, usually we're attacked first, but sometimes we hit back too hard," he added, thinking about a Christmas years past with ash instead of snow.

"Exactly," Kate nodded. "Instead of earning a reputation for brutality, we can make it so that others see the Earth as a civilized planet with science and adequate force to back it up."

"Yes, UNIT will be maintaining a military sector to deal with crisis or code reds," the Colonel continued. "But there will certainly be quite a bit of restructuring going on, starting at the top. Therefore, I should inform you that Miss Stewart will be taking up the position of Director of our organization."

"Congratulations," Martha grinned, reaching across to shake the other woman's hand. Mickey followed suit.

"Bet that's going to be a lot of fun," he couldn't help teasing a bit. He knew he wouldn't want to be in charge of reorganizing an entire bureaucracy.

"Oh, I doubt it. Still, it'll be an interesting challenge, I think."

They were given new provisional schedules and exchanged another round of handshakes with the Colonel and the Director. As they walked back out to the car, Mickey started to laugh.

"What is it?" Martha asked, a bemused smile on her face.

"I just realized- what's Jack going to do when he hears the new leader of UNIT's a single woman?"

His wife laughed alongside him as they drove away.

OoO

Sarah Jane gave a start as her phone began to ring. Taking it out with one hand, as the other one was already full with Michelle Smith-Jones, she flipped it open. "Stay right there," she instructed Michelle's older sister, Mandy, before speaking into the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, mum."

"Luke! Oh, it's so good to hear from you. How are your studies?" She felt her smile stretch across her whole face.

"They're fine. I just wanted to ask- am I still coming home for break this weekend? Cause, I know you're busy—"

"Oh! Oh yes, break, I'd forgotten," she said, shaking her head at herself. "Of- of course you are. I can't wait to see you." And that was the truth. "Love you."

"Love you, too, mum."

But as she hung up the phone, Sarah Jane sighed. She didn't want to make a choice, didn't want to have to prioritize. But she owed it to be there for Luke when he got home, and she really had missed him. It didn't stop her from feeling guilty for having to leave. After all, the Doctor was still on the mend, and she would feel awful for just going.

"Well, there's not much else I can do," she said aloud to herself, putting on a smile again as she turned to face Mandy. But the child wasn't there. "Mandy?" She called, the beginnings of panic entering her voice. Where had she gotten to?

Sarah Jane thought to exit the control room and simply go back to the last place they'd been, with Donna and Sylvia in their kitchen. After the matriarch of the Noble household had seen the starved Time Lord, the mother-daughter pair had sprung into action. As soon as Martha and Rory had decided that the Doctor could have food, the two had spent long hours cooking up all sorts of soups and easily-swallowed meals.

When Wilfred Mott, with a knowing smile, had questioned his daughter about her obvious show of concern for the alien she supposedly hated, Sylvia had given a sniff, and with her nose raised had stated, "If that alien has promised to take my daughter to see the universe, then I will not have him dying on her."

She had gaped, stunned, but Donna had simply rolled her eyes and said, "Thanks, mum."

Perhaps Mandy had returned there, especially as the redheaded temp had kept sneaking her goodies. But just as she pulled open the door to step outside, the TARDIS seemed to take pity on her, and she heard the girl's giggles echoing from down the hall.

"Well, let's go find your sister before she gets lost," she said to the infant. Sarah Jane sighed, feeling wholly inadequate at taking care of young children. Making her way down the corridor, she came across the door to the med bay. Thinking that she could at least find someone to help her with her search, and also glad for the opportunity to see her friend again, she entered.

"—now I'm playing hide and seek, so you can't tell her I'm in here," Mandy finished. Amy and Jenny looked close to laughing, while River watched with an amused smile as the child burrowed under the covers next to the Doctor who looked rather bemused.

"Alright," he agreed nonetheless, patting the lump under the blankets that was her head.

"Mandy," she scolded, putting her free hand on her hip. They all looked up at her and the little girl's eyes poked out from her hiding place. "You shouldn't wander off in here. It's a big ship."

"Aww," she whined, and this time Jenny and Amy did laugh. Sarah Jane shook her head with a smile.

"How are you today?" She turned to her oldest friend, noting that he looked far better appearance-wise. He was a much healthier weight, though still too thin in her opinion.

"Better. And yourself? What about Luke?" He asked, more interested in talking about her, as usual. Sarah Jane winced, coming to sit in one of the free chairs by his bed next to Amy.

"He's fine. He goes on break this weekend, and well, I promised I would be home to spend it with him." He frowned, noticing her reserved tone.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Well, I can't just leave you, not while you're unwell," she burst out, and his eyes widened. "I mean, I want to see Luke, but I'd be a horrible friend if I just abandoned you when you needed friends the most."

"And what sort of friend does that make me for keeping you from your son?" He returned, and she saw water gathering in his eyes. Her hand went to her mouth, feeling even more wretched for upsetting him. Amy reached out and took the baby from her, seeing how distressed she was. He swallowed audibly, before opening his arms just a fraction, and she flew into them. "Oh, Sarah Jane, I'm sorry. I never meant to keep you all here. Is that what's happening?"

She shook her head. "No, no, it's not your fault. But please don't think of me badly for going, Doctor."

"Think of _you_ badly? Oh no, not ever. Not my Sarah Jane. No, you go home and take care of your son." When she'd calmed enough to pull away, they both wiped at their eyes a minute.

"You're the Doctor?" A small voice piped up, and she looked down to see Mandy had wriggled up to sit back against the pillows, looking at the alien closely.

He gave a somewhat shaky chuckle. "That's me."

"Mummy and Daddy talk about you a lot," she informed him.

"Do they?"

"They said you're funny."

"I see," he nodded along. She had to smile at this simple little conversation taking place, and saw Amy, Jenny, and River doing to same.

"But they've been really sad. You don't seem that funny." Sarah Jane bit her lip, worried at how this naïve comment might affect him.

"Oh…well Mandy, sometimes the people you think are funny don't feel funny or happy inside. They're actually really quite miserable," he explained gently. "But, they don't want the people around them- the people they care about to see how sad they are, so they hide it with jokes and laughter and…tawdry quirks." He looked only at the child, and she suspected it was because he couldn't meet their eyes.

"Are they ever happy?" Mandy asked.

"Yes. Yes, sometimes." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Sometimes they can forget their sadness just long enough to be truly happy for the people they have left to them. Sometimes the best they can do is try." The Doctor sighed, wrapping the girl in a one-armed hug. She looked confused, but didn't squirm or try to break away.

Nobody spoke for a time, until he lifted his arm from the child's shoulders to brace it against the headboard. He drew in a breath and slowly, painstakingly slid his legs out from under the covers and placed his feet on the floor.

"Doctor," River said, moving to help him, but he raised his hand to stop her.

"I need my cane, River."

"Dad, what are you talking about?" Jenny asked, clearly worried as she had to watch him struggle to stand. Though she wanted to do something, Sarah Jane knew that would likely only make things worse. He was determined, and she knew that meant he was to be taken seriously.

"Don't push yourself," Amy warned, watching him nervously.

"You wanted to go out, didn't you, Jenny?" He managed through gritted teeth, as he cautiously removed his hand from the headboard. The Doctor stood on his own. "Well, let's go out."

**So the Doctor is leaving the med bay. Not much else to say, except thanks for reading and please review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey, I'm glad so many of you enjoyed the last chapter! Thanks once again for the reviews, favorites, follows, and C2s. Your feedback is what keeps me updating! Enjoy!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Sixteen**

They made an odd group, she was sure. Jenny wanted to maintain the slow, steady pace set by the tap of a cane every other step, but Mandy would keep skipping ahead in impatience born from childish energy, grabbing her hand to tug her along as babysitter. So she was forced to leave the task of accompanying her father to River.

The short periods when the young child was content to obediently walk alongside the rest, Jenny was truly able to notice the looks they were receiving. Most passersby seemed confused at the diverse range of people they presented.

She couldn't really blame them; there was no clear resemblance to indicate familial ties between any of them, Mandy was obviously someone else's daughter, and they were all centered not around River, the oldest-looking of the group, but the sole male with a youthful face.

Of course, when the onlookers' eyes were inevitably drawn from his face, their gazes turned pitying as they focused on the cane he leaned heavily upon. But the Doctor met their stares head on, to the point where many flushed and averted their eyes. Once they were past, though, the people craned their necks back around to catch one last glimpse of him.

While she appreciated their concern to some extent, Jenny didn't see why they had to make a spectacle of it. And some tiny parts of her had to wonder if their pity would change if they could see and know what was under the surface, the two hearts that hammered underneath.

But she shouldn't- couldn't think like that. After all, there were so many brilliant people she knew who clearly proved that wrong. The Smith-Jones family, Sarah Jane Smith, Captain Jack, Donna who she saw as a fun aunt or even godmother, her own adopted grandparents.

Charlene Griffiths and her accomplices were the exception, had to be, out of all these amazing humans. Because if they weren't, then none of it—none of those fantastic, wonderful things he'd done would mean a thing. And that, more than anything, would break him.

They were coming upon a children's park, which Mandy was looking at with interest, so she and River exchanged a glance. It would likely be the best opportunity to allow the Doctor a rest.

"Sweetie, I think Mandy wants to try out that playground," her step-mum said quietly, and he merely nodded. It seemed his talkative mood, normally standard for him but lately a rarity, had passed.

She allowed herself to be led by the girl into the playground. Upon discovering peers of her own age and stature, however, Mandy soon forgot about her, which was fine by Jenny. This allowed her to go find her parents.

River had claimed an empty bench for them, and approaching the pair she tried to picture what the outside observer might see. She had to admit, when the professor had first told her of her position as the Doctor's wife, she had shared in some of the puzzlement their fellow park-goers were experiencing, but for different reasons.

She'd been too naïve to really understand what her father had meant when talking about the Time Lords on Messaline, but now she knew. She'd lived it for herself these long, lonely years. It was why she considered her vortex manipulator to be her most valuable possession; skipping around the universe meant she never had to stay long enough to get attached and watch someone age and end. It was also the reason she'd turned down Aaron Wood's affections. Kind and intelligent as the boy may be, he was a human boy, and the pain that would have been down the road for the both of them would have been too much.

So when she'd learned that her father, who was far more the expert than her, had entered willingly into a romantic union with a woman- who at the time she'd mistakenly thought human –Jenny had been more than a little shocked. Naturally, she'd read up on and laughed at his numerous accidental marriages to various Earth women, but when River Song had introduced herself and the nature of her relationship with her father, she had known it was vastly different from those ones. Back then, it had frightened her.

Now she couldn't be gladder. Where the Doctor's new, rather reserved nature made her nervous and just a bit uncomfortable, River was able to sit in silence, in patience with him simply holding his hand, as she was now despite the curious and even mildly disdainful looks she was receiving taking this action. When Jenny sat down on her father's other side, people seemed even more bewildered. He glanced at her, offered what could perhaps pass as a half-smile, before looking away, seemingly uncomfortable with his inability to hold up some sort of charade that he was fine.

"Well, we did pick a good day to come," she said, for lack of anything else to do. River humored her need to fill the quiet.

"We did. You can really tell it's spring now." But the words felt hollow, especially if she looked at her father. He was in his usual shirtsleeves, but he also wore a woolen sweater under the tweed jacket. His trademark bowtie was hidden by the scarf that was wrapped around his neck. And yet he still shivered. She wasn't sure if it was from any sort of chill, as he still hadn't regained his normal weight, or simple nerves, as his eyes kept darting about trying to capture everything at once. Jenny didn't think it was out of paranoia, but more of defensiveness.

"River's been teaching me how to fly the TARDIS, dad, did I tell you that?"

"Hm?" He barely glanced at her, and seemed dazed by the question.

"I've been learning to pilot the TARDIS," she repeated anyway, hoping this time the words would sink in.

"Oh," he replied absently, "Is that going well, then?"

"Yep. We haven't really gone much of anywhere, just learning the different controls." He nodded.

"No objections?" River asked her own question, an eyebrow raised at him.

"No, no, that's good. Jenny should know how to fly her." River said no more, instead looking off into the distance with a small frown on her face, clearly troubled by his apathy. Jenny didn't like it much either.

"It's funny," he muttered under his breath.

"What?" She and River both turned sharply to face him. His expression was impassive, however, giving no hint as to his emotions.

"I'd forgotten, but this is what families do, isn't it? None of that running about and showy heroics- just this." She couldn't get a read on him to decide what he felt about that, whether or not he liked this new activity.

"Yeah, but 'just this' is boring, dad. I mean, going to the park every weekend to sit on a swing? There's so much more out there to be done, we know that," she reasoned.

"Yes…I could do so much more," he chuckled, but it sounded more bitter than anything else. The grip he had on his cane tightened so that his knuckles stood out white in his hand.

River placed a hand on his shoulder. "No one's asking you to do anything right now, my love. Nothing but this. Just try to relax."

"To forget," he contradicted with just the smallest frown, but his eyes told the real story. They darkened and the colors seemed to mix together like a storm. River and Jenny shared somewhat worried looks.

"What do you mean, dad?" She prompted, not sure she was going to like his answer.

"You're trying to make me forget again—don't deny it, you all are," the Doctor snapped before they could interrupt. "You want me not to think about it. Just like all these humans distract themselves with jobs and mortgages and outings to the park. Just like I distracted myself with running. So I didn't have to think about all of them. Just think, just think," he asked, begged of them. "Over sixty hospitals in London alone! 18 people dying every day for lack of _parts_. All those people every day, left to die. Who I do nothing for, but _could_."

He could have slapped her with every word and it wouldn't have hurt as much as this. Her father's words were truly his most deadly weapon. These words were especially harsh because he'd been holding them back until this moment, so they were all the more cutting as they burst from his lips, too powerful to be contained any longer.

Jenny felt she had both too many and no words at all. "Dad…"

"How can I condemn them, Jenny? How can I?" He implored, trying to make her see. But she shook her head, because she just couldn't see- she never would.

"You're not condemning them," she stated firmly.

"Doing nothing is the same," he stubbornly insisted, and she wanted to cry.

"Doctor," River tried, "it would be wonderful if we could do something for all those people. But there is a point where you cross the line. You can't save people's lives by destroying your own."

"What's destroyed? I'm not dead." She thought the top of the cane might just snap off he was holding it so tightly.

"Yes, you're a dead man walking!" Her step-mum's hand flew to her mouth as though she could shove the words back in and make it so they had never been said at all. "Doctor—"

"I'm trying," he stared out at the park so that he didn't have to see either of them. "I'm trying the best I can, but I can't just- I don't know how not to be a dead man anymore. I can't just forget that."

"Oh, my love, I know. I'm sorry," River was repeating over and over as she shook with suppressed tears. Jenny didn't know what to do. She wanted him to confide in her, tell him what he was feeling- but the things her dad was saying, she didn't know how to handle, how to fix. She knew nothing of this, was just as lost as River.

So Jenny did the only thing she could, and went around to the other side of the bench, sitting and wrapping her arms around the other blonde. "It's ok, mum, you didn't mean it. Don't cry." She was rocking them back and forth slightly, desperate to sooth because she wouldn't be able to hold her own tears in if the professor couldn't.

The clatter of wood on pavement made both of them jump in surprise, before gaping at what was happening before them and hardly believing it. The Doctor truly had been taking everything in, for he'd seen something they hadn't, and acted upon it. The cane lay forgotten on the ground- because he was _running_.

By the time they'd managed to shake themselves from their shocked stupor and followed he'd reached Mandy, and the girl was cradled in his arms as she wailed over a scraped, bleeding knee. Neither got a chance to say anything, much less catch their breath, for he looked up at them, tears shining in his eyes on the verge of spilling over.

"I could fix this. _I could fix this_." She could see how torn he was, between his relief and his guilt. He cherished his freedom, and yet his sympathy for all those people was holding him down. His face was haunted and beseeching, begging for what she didn't know. Their understanding, their acceptance, their help? He needed help, but not the kind he was asking for.

"Dad…" Jenny swallowed, and then slowly crouched down next to him and Mandy. "You could. Maybe you could. And- and you could fix a lot of people by going back to that, to what they made you," she said, not liking even saying the words. "But it won't ever fix everything. What about all those people every year diagnosed with terminal disease, the people who die in accidents, murders, wars, natural disasters? You _can't_ save everyone, dad, and you can't hold yourself to that standard- because that's what's destroying you."

She held his gaze as his mouth worked, his voice seemingly caught by a lump in his throat. And she could see in his eyes that he was trying, he wanted to believe her so badly.

"Sweetie," River had joined them on the ground as well, "Everyone dies. It has to happen. One day, Jenny will die, I will die, and there's nothing you can do about that." He made a choked sort of noise and so his wife reached out and gently cupped his face, brushing away a single tear that had just escaped. "But that's ok. Because listen, Doctor, listen. What do you hear?"

Jenny found herself listening as well, straining her ears. But all there was, was the pitter-patter of running footsteps, the creaking of swings, the murmur of human voices, the laughing of children.

River smiled. "It's _life_ Doctor. Because for every day that somebody dies, there are so many more that they lived."

She placed her hand lightly on his arm. "And we just want to live them with you."

He was moved beyond words. "I- I—" But the Doctor was saved from having to speak when Mandy, who had ceased crying and only sniffled now and then, tugged on his sleeve.

"I'm ok, Mr. Doctor, it stopped stinging now. Mommy always says to wash it with soap and water and stick a band aid on it." It was as if they were all holding their breaths, River and Jenny's hands slowly pulling back, as she blinked innocently up at him.

At last, the Doctor's lip quivered and the tears started to trickle down his face. "Oh you strong, brave humans," he gasped, pulling the girl only tighter to him. "You just get by on your own." He made a move as if to stand up with the child still tucked in his arms, but it proved too much for him, as he barely gained his feet before plopping back on the ground with an, "Oof!"

She almost leaned forward to steady him, but her father took a deep breath and gently lowered the girl onto the ground. Mandy stood up shakily, favoring her uninjured leg, and tilted her head in puzzlement as she looked down at him.

"I'm sorry, Mandy, I'm just not as strong as you…could you help me?" He asked quietly, and Mandy bobbed her head up and down, taking one of his big hands in her two small ones. Slowly, the Doctor stood, holding the child's hands all the while.

"I think it's time to head home. We need to take care of that knee," River decided, leading the way out of the park. Jenny had to stoop to retrieve the cane that remained abandoned, and carried it under her arm. So she brought up the rear of their still strange procession. The Doctor and Mandy hobbled back to the TARDIS, holding hands and leaning on each other the whole way.

**I'm going to stop here, even though it's way shorter than what you're used to. It just feels like the best place to stop this chapter, and it's been really difficult trying to find time to sit down and type. And anyway, I want to update before the supposed end of the world, just in case. Hopefully the next chapter will be up before Christmas, but if not, Happy Holidays!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Merry Christmas (and Boxing Day)! Once again, thanks so much for the reviews, favorites, follows, and C2s, you guys rock! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Seventeen**

Donna had to admit it; she was hiding in her kitchen. It wasn't that she was scared, per say, Donna Noble was no coward. But, this wasn't exactly being the bravest of the brave, either.

She just found it hard, because while she wanted to show her support and wanted to be there for him, it was so difficult just sitting there staring at him hurt as he was. The Doctor being in any sort of pain always made her uneasy. So instead she did her best to keep herself busy.

What use would she be at his bedside anyway? Donna wasn't a doctor like Martha, wasn't family like Jenny or River or Amy or Rory. She was just a friend. Like he wanted to have to deal with friends on top of everything else at the moment. Being productive, cooking up foods was probably the best she could be doing right now.

So it had been a while since she had left her house. But the frenzied, angry-sounding arguing drew her out. She found Jack pacing in an agitated manner in front of the TARDIS as Amy leaned in the open doorway, a hand on her hip.

"Jack, River and Jenny can handle it. They're more than capable—"

"I'm not saying they're not capable, Amy. But to just take him back out into the real world like that—that's dangerous. It's not a spur of the moment type of decision! And what if something happens, what if it's happening right now?" The Captain appeared as though he might start off in a random direction as if to begin the search, when Mickey stuck his head outside of the TARDIS.

"Calm down, Cheesecake. They can't have been gone more than half an hour, at any rate. Give them some time," the man reasoned, causing Jack to frown at being confronted with such logic. Martha then edged her way out into the open with Michelle to give her own input.

"Maybe it is a bit sudden, but if the Doctor suggested it, that's good, Jack. He needs to get out of here, back into the real world. The longer he sits around in the TARDIS, the longer it'll take for him to recover."

"Does anyone feel like telling me what's going on?" Donna finally asked when it seemed the American was about to reply, likely to continue his argument.

"River, Jenny, and the Doctor took Mandy out on a walk," Amy stated simply. "She was getting a little bored sitting around."

She looked around at them all, a bit puzzled by the scowl still on the immortal man's face. "Well, that's good, isn't it?"

He sighed. "Yes, Donna. I guess I'm being paranoid, but I wish they had waited for either me or Martha or Mickey to get back to keep an eye on things."

"That's probably why they didn't wait," Mickey pointed out with a wry grin. "You know how the Doctor normally is about that stuff. And I don't think River would appreciate you saying she can't take care of it by herself."

"That's not the—"

"Well, you can stop your fussing. Here they come," Amy gestured down the street, and sure enough River, the Doctor, little Mandy, and Jenny could be seen walking towards them. Donna hadn't seen him up and about in some time, and so to watch him coming down the sidewalk like any other person struck her quite speechless. The others didn't have that problem.

"Doc, are you—" Jack began, taking a step forward as though uncertain as to whether he should go and help the Time Lord.

"How'd it go?" Amy interrupted in order to question her daughter.

"Oh, Mandy, did you fall again?" Martha asked, hurrying over to examine what looked like a scrape. Mickey was not far behind.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, looking almost apprehensively down at the married pair.

"What are you apologizing for? It happens all the time. Kids, you know?" Mickey shook his head with a little grin, scooping his little girl up into his arms. "Does it hurt much, Mandy?"

"Just a little, Daddy," she replied.

"Well, let's get you to a sink, then. There's still a First Aid kit in the bathroom, right Doctor?" Martha called over her shoulder as the Smith-Jones family made their way into the TARDIS.

"Hm? Oh- yes, there is," he responded after a moment, and to Donna it seemed as though he was rather distracted, either by his own thoughts or by everything else going on around him, for Jack, Amy, and River were now exchanging some heated words. The Captain was taking on both women at once.

"I didn't realize I had to defer to your authority in regards to my own husband," River was saying with narrowed eyes.

"It's not about my authority—"

"It's not?" Amy repeated with some skepticism.

"No," he ground out with clenched teeth. "But I'd appreciate a little warning before you go wandering off without backup."

"Why would we need backup?" Jenny inquired with a shrug. "There's no immediate danger in Chiswick."

Normally, arguments were the place to be for Donna Noble, and normally she might have said something in defense of her home. But she just didn't see the use in arguing with her friends, especially when the Doctor was just hanging back by the side of the TARDIS looking so miserable. So she waited until his eyes swept back her way and jerked her head towards her house. He looked uncertainly at the group still gathered by the doors of his ship, and then took a step her way.

Donna smiled. "Come on!" She mouthed the words, and he stumbled his way over to her, nearly tripping on the curb. She had to resist the urge to roll her eyes as she took his arm, leading him inside while the others continued talking unawares. Once more, she found herself in her kitchen, only this time with the alien she was making all of this food for. "Are you hungry?" She asked at normal volume, now that their little bit of subterfuge was over with.

"I suppose," he answered quietly, standing in the center of the room where she left him to rummage around for another pot. She straightened up and did roll her eyes this time.

"You can find yourself a chair," she scolded, shooing him towards the kitchen table, and he gave a little start before shuffling over to a chair. When next she looked at him, he was watching her every movement, occasionally dropping his gaze to examine the distance between them, and so she sighed. "Up here, then," she instructed, patting the empty countertop beside her and cringing inwardly at the talking-to her mother was going to give her for allowing it.

It was worth it, though, as he hopped up with more enthusiasm than she had seen him give anything, swinging his legs back and forth slightly. They smiled at each other.

"You know what," she decided, "I bet you're tired of soups. How about some eggs?" He shrugged, so she exchanged the pot for a skillet. Donna hummed as she worked, trying to ignore that he was still watching her silently. She would be patient this time, and wait for him to speak. If she prompted him, sure, he would talk, but she had learned that that was when he never said anything. When he chose to speak, that was when the words really meant something.

"Donna," he said, almost timidly. But she kept waiting. "I need your help," he continued at last.

She couldn't help from replying in astonishment, "My help? With what?"

"I know they're right- I do know that," he spoke, as if she hadn't said anything at all. "I just can't seem to _understand_. And I need you to help me do that."

"Understand that they're right—you mean everybody out there? River and Jenny and everybody?" He nodded, and she gaped. "How am I supposed to do that? What can I do that they can't? Why me?"

"Because, Donna, you're my best friend. That one person who can look at it objectively and say I'm being stupid, and I'll actually listen. River and Jenny, Amy and Rory- they're family. Martha and Mickey and Jack- they're like coworkers, colleagues. Sarah Jane's got family of her own to worry about. Hang on, where are Wilf and your mum?" He interrupted himself, turning his head this way and that as if her mother and grandfather would appear.

"Granddad's in town with friends and mum went out for groceries—and don't you go distracting me when you've asked for my help!" She warned, poking him in the chest with a wooden spoon before she began using it to stir the eggs. He looked at least a little sheepish, so giving him one last look, she gestured for him to speak again.

"I don't want to be a human organ-factory," he started, and she nodded. "But I don't want people to die. So what do I do?"

"Are you joking?" She asked after a minute, and he tilted his head in confusion. "Just do what you've been doing! Save people and planets- you're pretty good at it."

"Not good enough," he muttered darkly, down at his feet.

"Oi, I may be the best temp in Chiswick, but that doesn't mean I never make a mistake," she attempted. "It's like- like in Pompeii, Doctor, when I asked you to save that family. I couldn't ask you to save everyone in the city cause it would have destroyed a fixed point in time. You can't save everyone, Spaceman, but just a few…that's enough. That's all I've ever asked of you." She'd taken hold of one of his hands at some point, and so squeezed it tightly.

"And all I'm asking of him is to get off my countertop," her mother's voice cut in from the archway into the living room, and they both gave a start, the Doctor smacking the back of his head on the overhanging cabinet.

"Ehm, sorry, Sylvia," he said quickly, sliding off but sticking close to her side as the older woman approached. Wilf shuffled in after her, waving at them before taking a seat at the table.

"Well, I see you're up. What are you pestering my daughter for, then?" She raised an eyebrow, and Donna scowled, turning the skillet on low and facing her with a hand on her hip.

"He was just asking for some advice, mum," she informed her, waving the blonde away before returning her attention to the nearly finished eggs. Sylvia Noble sighed and likely shook her head before starting to make herself tea.

"I, um, I just- I don't know if that's the same, Donna," the alien practically whispered, casting furtive glances at her mother's back every now and then.

"What's not the same?"

"What happened in Pompeii and this. This isn't about fixed points, this about saving people. And what makes those few people any less worth saving than the rest of them? How—"

"If you asked for her advice, you should take it," her mother reprimanded, stopping in the middle of filling the kettle with water.

"He's allowed to disagree if he wants," Donna retorted, taking a plate from the cabinet and dumping the eggs onto it. She placed the plate on the table across from her granddad, but the Doctor did not follow her. Instead, he was frowning back at Sylvia.

"I don't really see what all the fuss is about," her mother commented idly.

"Don't see the—this is about human lives!" He argued, more animated than she'd yet to see him since this whole nightmare had begun. "People suffering—"

"You mean the people I actually know?" Her mother took a step toward him. "Because I'll tell you, Doctor, my daughter suffered for every _second_ you were missing."

"Oh, bloody hell," Donna breathed, face heating up in embarrassment.

"And I don't know everything about you, Doctor, but I know you've got a family. That means you've got a responsibility to them first," Wilf stated, and the alien scrambled for an answer.

"But- they- I—"

"And what about them alien attacks? If you're not around to stop them, who will?" The old man questioned, Donna nodding in acknowledgement of his rather sound point, and the Doctor's eyes widened.

"I, ehm, I hadn't really thought—"

"Well, what do I know?" The older woman shrugged turning from him as though disinterested. "Maybe you're right. You're hardly worth much at all—we ought to harvest your organs for all those other people who've come to terms with dying."

"Sylvia!" Her granddad yelped in shock.

"_Mum_!" Donna shouted in outrage.

"Hardly worth much? What do you mean?" The Doctor asked, stepping away from the safety of the counters.

Her mother gave a disdainful sniff. "You seem quite willing to give up living a normal life, and it doesn't look like there's much keeping you here. Obviously this family dad's talking about means nothing to you—"

"Wait just a minute there, Sylvia Noble. I'll have you know I'm a happily married man, er, alien, and I've got the most wonderful daughter in the universe. Not to mention the in-laws, and friends. Now why exactly would I be giving that up any time soon?" He went right up to the other woman, not invading her personal space, but making his presence well-known.

"That's rather selfish of you," she remarked, standing just that bit higher on her toes to look him in the eye.

"Selfish! Wanting to live isn't selfish, having people you care about isn't selfish, that- that would be ridiculous! And—" He stopped with his mouth gaping, obviously replaying the exchange in his mind. Donna was as well, and a smile began to slowly spread across her face.

"That sounds more like the Martian I know," she pointed out. "See what we've been trying to tell you?"

"Yes," he breathed out shakily, which turned into a chuckle as he shook his head at himself. "I've no idea if you were being serious or not," he directed at her mother, "But I think I've just be reverse-psychologized by a human. And it _worked_." A slight upward twitch of her mother's lips showed how satisfied she was with herself, and he grinned. "Sylvia Noble, you are magnificent!" Her mother obviously wasn't expecting him to seize her in a hug and kiss her cheek, for she nearly squawked in protest and smacked him on the arm. He clapped Wilf on the shoulder, and her granddad smiled. Donna was more ready for her hug, but couldn't contain a small yelp of surprise when he physically lifted her off her feet for a moment.

"You brilliant, _brilliant_ humans! Using my own words against me- oh, that is genius! But I have been being selfish, haven't I?" He pulled back, but kept a grip on her arms. "Stupid Doctor, I've been sulking, haven't I?"

"Yeah," she felt it was perfectly fair to let him know. He grimaced.

"Oh dear…I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Spaceman," she made sure to stress.

"Maybe not everything, but this is. Making you worry, the people I care about."

"It's ok," she reassured, but he was already darting back outside. She shrugged at her family before following after him. "Where are you going?"

"To apologize!" He called over his shoulder. She smiled to herself, sure that this would truly lift everyone's spirits.

Of course he had to fling himself at his box, first.

"Oh my dear Old Girl. I'm sorry, dear. Always having to wait for me to stop being so stupid." Though her hands were on her hips, Donna stood by as he talked to his ship. She didn't really understand their relationship, but she at least respected it. Suddenly, she gasped in alarm.

"Doctor!"

But the TARDIS doors banged upon, knocking the Time Lord off his feet to crash into her, and they tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and her ginger hair. Jack was framed in the doorway, looking incredibly worried.

"He can't have gone far—" He stared in shock and almost bafflement at their human-alien pretzel. "Doctor! Donna!"

"Jack!" The Doctor easily leapt up to his feet, somehow disentangling them in seconds, and embraced the Captain. The other man staggered back a step, bewildered, but returned the hug. "Who can't have gone far?"

"Uh, you, Doc. We lost track of you and panicked, I mean River and Jenny are really—"

The Time Lord slipped past him into the console room, and the two of them exchanged a glance.

"You didn't think to check my house?" Donna asked, and the immortal man shrugged sheepishly.

"Like I said- we panicked. But, uh, is it just me or does he seem more—"

"He found you!" They heard Amy say, and she and Jack went inside to see the Scottish woman rushing down the stairs toward their friend.

"Wasn't lost, Pond, and if I was it was the figurative sense. But that's all sorted now."

The other redhead blinked in surprise and almost disbelief. "It is?"

But the Doctor was looking around impatiently. "Where's the Roman? I can't exactly ask him for permission if he's absent."

"I can give my own permission," Amy replied briskly, wrapping her arms about him.

"Of course you can," he agreed, quickly pressing a kiss to her forehead and pulling away to run up to the control panel. "Now where are they?"

"Who?" Jack asked in some confusion.

"Everyone. Anyone!" He laughed, and then skipped up the stairs to the corridor. "But most certainly—River! Jenny!" The Doctor called, and seemed about to take off down the corridor in search. But a flash of blonde caught Donna's eye, and she saw Jenny poke her head out from the under the glass floor with an incredulous look on her face.

OoO

The three of them- Amy, River, and Jack –would have likely kept bickering if she hadn't looked about and realized the subject of their bickering had disappeared. Jack had run back to check the park, River was searching the TARDIS interior as she was the most knowledgeable out of them all about the ship, and Jenny had headed down the stairs to the swing, not wanting to talk or even think much anymore. Amy's silence still bothered her.

Everyone was so on-edge and solemn these days, it felt stifling. Aside from occasional bouts of energy or emotion, usually sadness, her father was listless. She'd heard her step-grandfather utter the word 'troubled' once or twice when talking about him to Martha. And her step-grandmother, who normally didn't hesitate to say what was on her mind, wasn't even attempting to talk to her, meaning she thought something truly awful was about to happen.

When Jack returned with nothing, he and Amy spoke quietly to each other.

"I just- he's said…I think he doesn't want…how long can we keep him going, Jack?"

"I don't know, Amy. Just stay here, don't tell the others he's missing yet, at least not until River's done looking," the Captain replied, and she heard his heavy footfalls on the stairs leading down to the front door. "I'm going out there again. He can't have gone too far."

Jenny closed her eyes, tuning them out. She knew that this was nowhere near normal behavior for the Doctor, at least not how most people thought of him. But she had to wonder, just how much of this was being caused by Griffiths' actions and how much was everything becoming too much. They'd gotten him to admit there was something wrong, but he seemed determined to focus on exclusively the negatives.

But now…

"River! Jenny!" Her father shouted again, not angry, not worried, but with an almost euphoric desperation, as if it was essential that he find them. She could hardly believe her ears.

"Dad?" The Doctor whipped his head around and located her, a beam breaking out across his face. Faster than she could blink, he'd raced down to the lower level and was spinning her around in circles as he held her tight. "Dad!" Jenny said again, a mixture of joy and fear, concerned for his health. He'd been using a cane earlier, and yet he lifted her as though she was a feather.

"Jenny- oh, Jenny I don't even know what to say! I'm sorry- thank you- you absolute wonderful genius of a girl!" He stopped spinning at last and kissed the top of her head. She must have been in danger of splitting her face, her smile was so wide. Then he stepped back, taking hold of her hands. "Let me look at you. I never dreamed I'd see you- I'd see _my daughter_ again." He looked close to tears, but that was fine because she was just the same, along with just about everyone else in the room. Including River, who had emerged from the corridor and was smiling warmly down at them. Jenny caught sight of the older woman, and the Doctor turned to see what she was looking at, his smile growing all the more.

"Hello, Sweetie," the curly-blonde said softly, slowly stepping down to the platform holding the control panel, but hesitating on the top step leading down to the bottom level.

"Hi, honey…I'm home," he extended a hand out to her, and her step-mum descended the rest of the way, grasping it in her own hand. "Really and truly home. And you were right- you both were right. The universe isn't perfect, and people die—but that doesn't mean I should waste my time thinking of all the things I _haven't_ done. I should spend it with the people I care about. My friends and family." He glanced up, catching Donna's eye a moment, before looking back at them. "And that isn't selfish."

"No, it isn't," River agreed, tugging him to her by the ends of the long scarf still looped around his neck for a kiss longer and more passionate than the one she'd seen them share before.

Jenny waited, too delighted to really be grossed out by her parents. "You don't have to be perfect either, dad," she told him after the archeologist had pulled away and he'd rocked back onto his heels, scratching at a red-flushed cheek and working to calm the fidgeting of his limbs. The Doctor turned, seeming almost grateful for the distraction yet still listening closely to her words. "Sometimes it's all too much to handle, and you aren't happy, even though we want you to be. But we'll still be there, because we care about you, too."

"And that doesn't mean you pretend everything's fine just to make us happy," River added firmly, leaving no room for dispute. "This affected all of us, and it's ok- expected, even –to still be upset, to still think about it, to feel guilty. We'll work through it."

He was silent a long time, clearly thinking through what all of that entailed, and she almost felt like holding her breath. Jenny remembered back on Messaline how her father had talked of what it meant to be a Time Lord, of sharing burdens and suffering. If he tried to shut them out now, what would it mean for them as a family?

The Doctor took a breath, and then nodded. "Ok," he decided, and she threw her arms around him in another hug, so relieved and glad. She felt the reassuring weight of his arms returning the embrace, and the fingers of one hand were combing through her ponytail. A warm hand on her shoulder let her know River was right there with them. They could do this, he really could recover.

"Um, actually, I think I might have figured out a way to help," came Rory's voice, and everyone in the control room turned to see him standing at the top of the stairs, still holding his mobile. "I was on the phone with my dad, and he mentioned- well, Doctor, I think there's something we could have you try, if you want."

Looking up at her father, she could tell he was intrigued if a little apprehensive. "Alright. What is it?"

**Stopping there for this chapter. Yay, it's longer! And the Doctor's feeling better! What might Rory's idea be? That's next chapter, so for now, thanks for reading and please review!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Ok, super sorry for the outrageously long wait for this one guys. Just writer's block and life being extremely very not cooperative at the time. Nevertheless, I am so grateful for all your reviews, favorites, follows, and C2s! You guys are the reason I keep updating.**

**Now, to attempt and head-off any confusion, Brian Williams is going to feature in this chapter. The only trouble is, since I began this series pre-season seven, Brian's character didn't exist. So while I am basing the character of Rory's dad off of Mark Williams' portrayal, he has never met the Doctor, and the Doctor has never met him. Hopefully that makes sense. So, on with the fic!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Eighteen**

As they pulled up in front of the large, yet plain, building, he felt himself tense up despite the promises he'd made himself. This was good. This was safe. If he had any doubts, Jenny's head leaning on his shoulder and River's fingers entwined with his should have dispelled them. Yet still the Doctor felt anxious.

"We're here," Rory announced, finding a parking space and shutting off the car. Amy turned around in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

"Nothing to worry about, Doctor. It's just our stupid old school in boring Leadworth. Least it's not old people," she joked. He actually managed to crack a smile at that.

"Thank goodness for that, Pond," he replied. Jenny had opened her door and exited the car, so he slid out after her, stepping into the afternoon air. He watched as people both went into and out of the school building. Well, at least no one who was leaving _looked_ like anything bad had happened. He took in a deep breath, glancing about to see that all four of the others had gathered around him, a silent show of support. "So," he started, wanting to think less about what they were here for, "The Ponds' alma mater. All three of you, actually," he realized, and River grimaced.

"Worse than any Stormcage sentence," she commented dryly, and he actually laughed at that. He felt at ease enough that he could begin walking, though Rory soon took up the lead.

"Dad promised to meet us in the lobby," he informed them all.

"Then let's go see Brian," Amy decided.

"Dad," Jenny murmured quietly. He looked down at her to see she was clearly thinking about something.

"Yes, Jenny?"

"Well, if Brian is Rory's dad, does that mean he's my step-great-grandfather?"

The Doctor blinked. "Er, yes. Yes, I suppose he is. You have two, actually—Amy's father is Augustus and his wife- your step-great-grandmother –is Tabetha." He had grandparents-in-law? It was shocking just to think about it.

They passed through the front entrance and joined a queue of people waiting to approach a table. There were three people manning the table, and Rory had put them in line for an older-looking male with similar facial features. The Doctor could only assume this was Brian Williams, his friend's father.

When they reached the front of the line, Mr. Williams nodded at the hospital intern. "Rory."

"Hi, dad," was the simple reply.

"Brian," Amy greeted with a smile, and the man leaned across the table to accept her hug.

"Hello, Amy. How have you both been? Everything sorted with that 'unit'-thing?" He inquired, and the Doctor exchanged a curious glance with his daughter.

"Is there a reason Rory's father likes talking to Amy more?" He whispered in his wife's ear.

"It's always been like that," River murmured. "Ever since we were kids. Rory got his quietness from his father, so I think neither really knows what to say."

"Oh, everything's fine," Amy was saying. Brian nodded before his eyes fell on the group of three he was unfamiliar with.

"I'm guessing you're the friend Rory was telling me about…?" He trailed off, and the Doctor gave a start.

"Oh! Yes, that's me. Hello, I'm- er –John Smith," he introduced, shaking the other man's hand enthusiastically. They'd decided it would be best for him to use a pseudonym in this case, especially given what they were here for.

"River Song," the curly-haired blonde held out her hand politely for her unknowing grandfather.

"Jenny Smith," his daughter piped up next, and he had to smile that she'd chosen his pseudonym for herself as well.

"Yes, well, donating blood is a simple process, it really only takes a little while. And that's mostly recuperation, making sure you're ready to get back on your feet. We have everyone read one of these," Brian told him, handing him a folder that appeared to contain specific information.

A blood drive. That was why they had come here. Yes, it seemed a crazy idea, and they'd had to debate it back and forth between everybody. He could still vividly recall how Donna had physically placed herself between him and Rory, flinging her arms out wide.

"He's given enough!" She'd declared.

But he had listened attentively to Rory's explanation. "Well, we all agree that the Doctor was having problems recovering. Because he feels like he's not doing enough to help people. And we've agreed that that's not true," the Roman had added hastily as Donna had looked about to retort. "But maybe, this is sort of a way to show that he _can_ do something- and not more than he should. It's healthy."

So he'd agreed to go. While he'd come to terms with the fact that there were people who would die without his organs, there was still a bereft feeling. Because it felt wrong to just do _nothing_.

And perhaps, this could be that family of four from Pompeii he'd saved. He'd learned from each painful lesson that rarely—just once—everybody lived. But every day, _some_ people lived. And that was enough to keep going.

He was brought back to the present when Brian handed him another sheet of paper. "This is just the donor health-check form. All you have to do is answer the questions."

"Thank you," he offered with a smile, and they left the line. Finding an empty bench, the Doctor sat, River and Jenny flanking him as per usual. Amy squeezed in next to her daughter, leaving Rory to stand next her. Retrieving a pen from his pocket, he began checking off questions. It was all rather easy, although he wondered if the section on travel might be an issue.

"It's a good thing they don't ask if you've been outside the galaxy," Jenny remarked with a grin, and he chuckled.

"I suppose it is. And maybe they don't need to know that I've visited London during the plague. Perfectly safe, Rory, I didn't get it," he added before the other could raise his concerns.

They waited for a little while, before Brian approached them again. "I'll be taking you through the process," he informed them, "so if you could give me that, we just have to have some basic information added into the database."

As they stood up and began to follow, he heard Rory mutter to the older man, "Thanks, dad."

They followed Brian into a long hallway lined with desks. Each one was manned by a person with a laptop, and Brian guided them to the nearest available one. The young man who sat on the other side smiled in greeting.

"Hi, thanks for coming. I just need you to answer a couple basic questions." He nodded, as that had already been established. "Name?"

"John Smith," he answered readily, expecting that one. The next one he was a little thrown by.

"Date of birth?"

"Er…" now _that_ was complicated. He supposed technically this body was born Easter of 1996, but somehow he felt that was too…late? Too early? His actual birthdate was certainly too early. Or perhaps it was too late, considering that this was the twenty-first century.

River placed one hand on either side of his face, turning it towards her, and she studied him for a moment. "Hm…April 7th, 1990."

"Uh…ok," the man at the laptop said, shrugging and entering it in. "Address?"

"I got it," Amy said, and so he used the diversion she had caused to raise an eyebrow at his wife.

"I'm twenty-five?" He hissed incredulously.

She smirked. "You should be flattered. I could have gone with thirty."

"Thirty! Ha!" He huffed, crossing his arms. Dimly, he noted that the address Amy was giving the man was her own, the Pond residence. And he supposed he couldn't be too upset with the archeologist. After all, April 7th…it was the day he'd met his little Amelia and all this had begun.

"You have to admit it's a bit funny," Jenny said, seeming to side with her step-mum. "I mean, just going by appearance, most people would think you're my older brother!" The blonde giggled a bit at that, so he reached out and poked her in the nose.

"Oi, that is not funny." They left the man and his laptop and followed Brian again.

"It is a little bit, dad."

"Fine."

They had reached a screened-off area, behind which sat a woman at another desk. "This is the health-screening section. You can go in alone, if you like," Brian started, but the others had already followed him in, not that he objected. He was sure, though, that the other man was likely wondering just what sort of person needed four other people to go with him for something so simple.

The fact of the matter was, the further they went, the more uncertain and even anxious he became. If he had come here alone, he wasn't sure he could do it. He never did anything alone, really, always needing someone to travel with him, someone to be brave for. He could be brave for his family.

The woman smiled just as the previous man had done. "Hello. First time, huh? Which of you is here to donate?"

"That's me," he replied, taking the chair on the other side of the desk. They went through the usual set of questions, and she looked over the form Brian had had him fill out. Aside from raising her eyebrow at the travel section, she made no other comment.

"Alright, John, then I just need to check your hemoglobin level. It's to make sure you're not anemic." He nearly told her not to bother, and that he was positive he was not, but not feeling very bold at the moment, the Doctor merely held out his hand. She swabbed one of his fingers to sterilize it, before retrieving a little device. "This is called a lancet. It's just going to prick your finger, you'll barely feel it."

"Right," he nodded, though his voice sounded a bit faint to his ears. He'd gone through so much worse, why was this any more difficult?

"We use a new one for every donor, so no need to worry about infection," she continued and he nodded along, before jerking back sharply in his seat. Had that been it? "See?" She laughed kindly at his no doubt wide-eyed expression. "Just pricked the surface. Now I use this," she produced a small white pipette, "to collect the drop of blood, and then it can be tested. Shouldn't take more than a minute." She transferred the drop into some green tubing and they watched it sink to the bottom. "Ok, you've got enough hemoglobin. Brian will take you to a donation bed."

He stood back up, scrutinizing his finger. But whatever puncture hole had been made was so little as to be barely noticed at all. "Thank you."

"Thank you for donating," she returned, and then disappeared behind the screen as he followed Brian away. They entered what he supposed was the gymnasium on school days, and he noticed that it was filled with rows of beds. Cots, really. People were lying down or getting up, and always moving. So many of them here to donate, just doing what they could. Keeping that in mind, the Doctor found it easier to continue on with the others.

He was brought to an unoccupied cot and sat on it. River gently pressed on his shoulders, easing him back onto the mattress. Amy, Rory, and Jenny all stood with her to his side, Brian hanging back a bit.

"It'll only be a few minutes, right?" Amy inquired of either Williams, clearly in a fussing sort of mood.

"Ten is the average," Brian offered.

"No worries then, yeah?" She checked with him and he managed a smile for her.

"Course not."

A young woman approached them. "Thank you for coming," she began. He could see she was holding something. "If you could take off your jacket and roll up your sleeve, I'm going to put this cuff on your arm. That makes it easier to find a vein." The Doctor did as asked, removing the tweed coat and handing it off to Rory, and then rolled up his one shirt-sleeve. As the cuff was attached he could feel the circulation being limited and his arm start to get that feeling of strange almost-numbness.

"You don't have to watch if you don't want to," the woman spoke up, and he was surprised to realize he'd been staring rather intently at his own arm.

"Sorry, just a bit curious, I suppose. First time doing something like this." Willingly, that was. Somehow it gave a whole different perspective to the entire thing. A stiff, standard-issue mat at his back instead a cold, metal slab, freedom to move his limbs if he wished, and just a few of the people he cared about here with him.

"Well, we're glad you decided to give it a try. What's your name?" She was wiping part of his arm to make sure it was sterile, clearly just making small talk to distract him.

"John Smith," he stated simply, and felt bewildered when she did a double-take and gasped.

"Oh my God…it's you!"

He glanced at one of the others for help, but they seemed just as stunned as he was. "Sorry?" He tried, wondering if maybe she'd just mistaken him for someone else. It was a common name, after all, and he was absolutely certain he had never met this human in his life.

"You're that guy from the YouTube video—the one that saved that woman and got hurt in the construction accident!" Her excited smile belied her otherwise alarming words.

"Oh," he replied, comprehension dawning. Had he really done that? He'd nearly forgotten- but it had been him, as the human John Smith, who had rushed to Donna Noble's rescue on that fateful day. "Yes, yes, that's me."

"And now you do blood drives?" She laughed in amazement. "You're like a hero!"

"Wh- what?" He gaped, hardly believing the woman's words. When he caught sight of his family again, Amy was smirking with a raised eyebrow as if daring him to object, Rory had an amused smile on his face, River had that knowing look in her eye as she nodded ever so slightly, and Jenny was practically beaming. "I- I'm not—ow!"

He looked down sharply to see that the woman had used his astonishment as a distraction to insert the needle. The Doctor wasn't sure if he should resent or praise such a tactic, but at the least all the anticipation was over. Now his blood simply drained into the bag below.

Instead of watching that however, he allowed his eyes to wander over the room, to take in all the other people here for this same purpose. Each doing the little bit that they could. These humans…these were the heroes. He could only just try to be a small part of it all. Yet it still filled him with a sort of warmth. It was…freeing, somehow. That ever-present guilt that had been plaguing him seemed less.

"Ok, that's it," the woman was saying before he even knew it, and the needle was removed to be replaced by a strip of gauze. "Just hold your fingers over it for about two minutes to stop any bleeding," she instructed, and he moved his other arm to do so. "So just relax for a bit until you think you're ready to get up. There's refreshments on a table at that end of the room, make sure you get something to eat and drink."

He nodded, resting back against the mat once more and still applying pressure to the gauze on his arm. "Thank you."

She smiled rather prettily again before heading off to continue her work.

"So…good. Everything's ok?" Rory asked somewhat nervously. Obviously, the other was having the usual doubts and insecurity about his ideas.

"Everything's brilliant, Rory," he assured, shutting his eyes. "Just need a minute to rest."

"Take all the time you need," Amy was quick to say.

"Yes, Pond. But I'm already starting to feel normal. It won't take so long for me."

"Why?" And she sounded worried, though he couldn't think of why—Oh. She was worried about him having to use his regenerative abilities.

"Two hearts. His blood is replenished twice as fast," River spoke quietly into her mother's ear, and the redhead relaxed. He'd cracked his eye open to see Rory's dad still distanced from them, just out of earshot if they talked quietly.

"Brian," he called, and the other man came up to his cot.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for showing us around. I truly appreciate it." Brian seemed somewhat thrown by the sincerity of his words and expression.

"Well, it really wasn't anything, and—you probably shouldn't be getting up yet." But the Doctor was sitting up anyway, stretching his arms over his head before bringing them back down and holding them out for his jacket. Rory obliged, though his father tutted disapprovingly. "It's barely been five minutes, Rory."

"I know, dad, but I trust- er –John's judgment," the hospital intern defended. He turned to him with a rather stern expression, adding, "But if you aren't steady on your feet, it's straight back to the cot."

He pouted a bit. "Yes fine, Rory," he acquiesced under the continued serious stare. Swinging his legs around to the side, he eased slowly onto his feet. The Doctor wasn't lying, he did feel fine. But he was also tired of feeling vulnerable, of being the one they were all watching over. It wasn't something the Time Lord was used to, and he doubted he ever would be.

No matter how terrible a job he did of it half the time, these people he cared about he felt the need to protect. And he couldn't do that by just rolling over and giving up, becoming a mere laboratory _thing_. So he was determined to find his usual high-spirits and confidence again, if only to return things to normal where he was not the one being constantly fussed over.

"So, she said refreshments, yes?"

Amy rolled her eyes, but other than that the group made no comment, instead heading over to a table laden with food and drink.

OoO

He sighed in relief, prepared to follow the others. To be honest, Rory had been having serious doubts about the whole thing almost the entire time they'd been here. He'd begun to worry that his idea had been stupid and reckless and maybe ultimately damaging. But it turned out he'd just been second-guessing himself.

When he'd answered his father's call, Rory had felt a little guilty for not keeping in touch with the man better. He was sure his dad had been over to their house every day, watering plants that Amy and Rory never bothered too and fixing little things like the fitting for the one light that kept going out. So he'd listened patiently, doing his best to encourage his father to actually talk to him.

Then Brian Williams had mentioned he was volunteering at the blood drive happening at the school, and Rory had had a thought. What if they'd been going about this all wrong? What if telling the Doctor no, that he couldn't, that there wasn't anything he could do was the wrong way to go about it? What if that was what was truly depressing him?

Even then some fear had gripped him, reminding him that pointing his alien friend in the direction of where he could repeat, on an incredibly smaller and more humane scale, the torture he'd undergone during his capture was a very bad idea. The Time Lord was in such a fragile state already.

Yet he'd been able to think of little else that might help, that might make moving on seem less like giving up on other humans.

As he had entered the console room at the sound of his friend's almost joyful shouts, he'd been thrilled to witness his return to near-exuberance. And so he'd proposed his idea. Now he was glad he had.

Rory started to head in the direction the Doctor had gone, wanting to be there in case the alien lost his balance from dizziness and stubbornness, but felt a tug on his arm. Glancing over his shoulder, he was surprised to find it was Jenny who had hung back since he figured she would be following right after her father.

"Rory," she began softly, eyes darting to the others.

"What is it, Jenny?" He prompted, wanting to make her feel at ease. Rory wanted his granddaughter—and wasn't that weird to think—to feel free to come to him about anything, just like River.

"If Brian is your father, why did we introduce ourselves with fake names?"

He glanced away at that, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Oh…well, my father doesn't really know about- all that."

"All that?" She repeated curiously, one eyebrow quirked as her head tilted to the side. "You mean my dad being the Doctor and travelling through time and space?"

"Right, exactly," he nodded, glad that the girl had also been gifted with her father's insane intellect as it made explaining things much easier for him.

"Isn't he confused why you have a daughter who looks older than you?" She inquired instead, and then in that very Doctorish- or perhaps just Time Lordish –way, answered her own question instead of letting him. "No! He doesn't know. You haven't told him," Jenny realized in a hushed voice. "You haven't told him he's a grandfather?" She was looking up at him now with big, wide eyes that looked almost ready to cry.

"Er, no, we haven't," Rory replied, unable to lie, but feeling ashamed as he suddenly understood just to what depths they'd kept his father in the dark. And Amy's parents! None of them ever knowing.

Donna's family was obviously aware of the Doctor and everything that entailed- her grandfather was even good friends with the Time Lord. From what he gathered, Martha's family knew, though her mother was very disapproving. Sarah Jane had a son who'd met the Doctor at least once or twice. Mickey and Jack had no families of their own to tell, but from what little bits he'd been able to glean from the two men, even Rose Tyler's family had known the Doctor.

But not the Ponds. Not Amy and Rory, they just ran off in the big blue box and came back a few days later with no one the wiser. Why was that?

He supposed he couldn't truly blame his wife. Amy had told people for years about her friend the Raggedy Doctor, and she'd been laughed at and sent to therapists. Why would she want to risk being hurt and humiliated all over again? But he didn't understand his own secretiveness.

As he looked at his father—nice, normal, unassuming Brian Williams, the man he might have grown up to be had Amy and the Doctor not shown up in his life—he wondered though if he could do it. Just simply tell him and irrevocably change his world.

Maybe…but not today. Today was a day to be cheerful and thankful and to feel so, so glad that everything looked like it just might be ok again, at last.

Rory was snapped abruptly from his reverie when the Doctor called out, "Rory, Jenny, they have Jammie Dodgers! Jammie Dodgers are good!"

Jenny giggled. "Let's get over there, then, eh?" She suggested to him, all serious questions aside. He agreed and so they at last came up to the table where Amy appeared to be making a plate up for the Time Lord.

"You can't _just_ have Jammie Dodgers, D—er, John. And get some water."

"But, Amy, Jammie Dodgers are good! Maybe not fish fingers and custard good, but pretty close."

"You should really sit down and write a list some time," River remarked, sounding amused in that way where you couldn't tell if she even meant it.

"If I did, they'd certainly be on there, right after bananas and Jelly Babies," the Doctor declared, obviously not caring if his wife had merely been having a laugh at him. "It's a shame they don't have Jelly Babies."

"I think I've got some in a bag on the—I mean, at home," Jenny told him, and his face spilt into an overjoyed grin.

"Jenny, you are a miracle worker!"

Rory turned to his father who was watching the exchange with some confusion and interest, and perhaps just the tiniest hint of amusement. "Dad," he ventured cautiously, and Brian looked at him. "Do you want to go golfing some time?"

"Yes, Rory, I think I'd like that," his father said after a moment, and they offered stiff, uncertain smiles to each other.

Of course the Doctor whirled about to include them in this moment. "Have a Jammie Dodger, Mr. Pond. You too, Brian Pond!"

"I'm not a Pond," his dad said, looking somewhat affronted.

"Yes, you are." And that was how it worked.

**At last! Finished! Wooo! So again, super-super-super sorry for the intolerably long wait, but I hope it was worth it. So, really not that much left for this story, just tying up some loose ends, so I hope it's been enjoyable so far. Thanks for reading and please review!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Ok I'm back with an update. I'm sorry the chapters have been coming slower, guys, but my schedule's gotten really busy lately. At any rate, I thank you all once again for the continued feedback! Without further ado, the next chapter.**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Nineteen**

It was insistent, repetitive, and shrill, causing him to bury his head deeper under the pillows and curl his arms tighter around the warm weight beside him in defiance. But the blasted noise would not give up and the Doctor, needing so little sleep anyway, was soon wide awake.

With a near-growl the Time Lord slowly sat up and stretched, sliding out from under the covers and pausing momentarily to re-tuck them around his wife. He threw a deep red bathrobe on over his striped pajamas and managed to locate one sock and one slipper, and so made a sort of shuffle-limp to the control room.

The ringing sound only grew louder as he descended the stairs to the console, and rubbing at his sleep-fogged eyes he grabbed up the phone.

"Hello?" The Doctor asked, trying to inject the usual energy into it. It was always so inconvenient when phone calls reached him at such early hours of the morning. On the rare night when he was asleep it left him disoriented. Which probably explained why it took him a full minute to realize he was not receiving a reply because the line was dead.

No one had called the TARDIS' phone, yet a phone was still ringing. Martha's old cell phone.

Slowly placing his ship's phone back in its cradle, the Doctor reached out with his other hand, resting it over the mobile device for a moment. It could be nothing. And even if it was something, they wouldn't wait for him forever. They'd hang up, and that would be the end of it, so there was absolutely no reason whatsoever for him to pick up that cell phone.

But what was life without a little risk? After all, if he didn't answer this call, he'd never know its purpose. Too many what-ifs for the Time Lord's liking. With this final thought in mind the Doctor's fingers closed around the small device.

All he had left to do now was to calm his shaking digits so he could hold the phone to his ear long enough. "…hello?"

"Hello, Doctor." Two words, two simple nothing words he had heard countless times in his long life in so many different situations. Yet he still froze.

"Charlene," he breathed, for it seemed he had lost his voice. "What- how—"

"They've decided on where I will be incarcerated, and I am allowed a phone call."

"And you call me?" He asked, astounded.

"There's no one else to call. I have no family," she reminded and his hearts clenched painfully. Charlene all alone in a cell for who knew how long. "And I was curious," she continued in a light sort of tone, the one that usually preceded a cold, harsh statement or accusation. "I wanted to know how you were."

"Fine," he answered simply, hoping that that would be all, but knowing it wouldn't be.

"You and I both know that's not true, Doctor," she chuckled softly and it sent shivers down his spine. "The legal system may be the one dismantling my work, but you caused it to happen. How do you justify it?"

He had closed his eyes against her words, and stubbornly shook his head. All the things his friends and family had said he was trying to hold on to, because he knew listening to Charlene's words was a slippery slope. "There's nothing to justify. I may be an alien, and the last of my kind, but I'm alive too, Charlene."

"You were just as alive at the Institute," she pointed out.

"Perhaps- but not _living_."

"You're quite good at using semantics to free yourself from responsibility," the imprisoned woman noted. "The Time Lord who would do anything to save the humans—just not this. How is that right or fair?"

"Because tying me down to a table and killing me over and over is right or fair?" He countered, eyes snapping open. The Doctor had certainly found his voice now, found it in anger and disgust. Because he knew what this call was about now.

"Doctor—"

"No, Dr. Griffiths, you will be silent. I have listened to all you have said for too long, and now- I am talking. If you claim that everything you do is to help people, then what is the purpose of phoning me now? For better or worse, the Wilkins Institute is gone, your experiment has been tried and failed. And now that you have been forced to face up to the consequences of your actions by the very humans you were supposedly the savior of, you are angry. You want a target, someone to have the last word with. You want to feel like you've won." It was his turn to laugh, but it lacked in any mirth.

"That's not—"

"It _is_. Well, you picked the wrong target, Griffiths."

"So you're saying it doesn't matter how many die in the hospitals now? You can live with that, Doctor?" She was clutching desperately at straws now, and she had picked good ones. The smug smirk that had come to his face slipped, and he swallowed once.

"You forget, Charlene…I've been living and counting the dead for a very long time."

"And you wouldn't have had to anymore, don't you see?" Her voice was trembling now and she had lost her cool composure. "We both can't bare all this death anymore, Doctor, we're the same that way. You would be doing everything in your power to stop that from happening."

"To stop it from happening on Earth, maybe. But I look at the big picture, and there's a whole wide universe out there full of death." She sucked in a sharp breath and made a sort of choked noise, and he realized after a moment that she was struggling not to cry. Oh, he'd done it again, gone too far.

"But there's life, too, Charlene," he added gently. "So much life, and so much to live for. It's why I travel. If I sat in your lab day in and day out, all I'd ever be able to think about is death, but out there…it's the closest thing to a miracle I've ever seen." Out there in the world where he'd met so many friends and gained the biggest, most wonderful family on Earth. "You look at it that way, Charlene, and I guarantee you can bare it." There was a long silence on the other end, as it seemed the human had managed to cease her tears.

"All I wanted was to help," she whispered her confession.

"I know," he said softly, "Do I ever know." He could not decide whether it was better he could not see her, he could not be there with her. She was alone save for his voice, yet he did not know what might become of him if he were to really comfort her.

"I had to try, Doctor. How could I go on with my life, with the knowledge of a cure to save them, and not do anything about it?"

"Oh, Charlene," he sighed, bowing his head, "you truly are magnificent. And you could have been something amazing. But this was never the way."

"I read that you tended to lecture your adversaries," she remarked, her voice sounding thick with oncoming tears.

"I wish you'd never read about me at all," he murmured sadly. Charlene Griffiths, yet another human he had ruined by mere association.

"I'm glad I did," she countered, sniffing once and taking a deep breath. Having calmed herself, she stated, "Someone had to, Doctor. And I will carry out my sentence with the knowledge that I did the right thing. How will you carry out yours?"

"Well," the Doctor began. He did not correct her implication that he was carrying out a sentence of his own.

"Dad?" He whirled around to see Jenny standing at the top of the stairs, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. Her hair was down and just a little messy, and she was wearing nightclothes and a light blue bathrobe supplied by the TARDIS. A smile slowly spread across his face as he took in the sight of his daughter.

"I will think of something, I'm sure," he answered the human at last. "Goodbye, Charlene." With that, the Doctor snapped the phone shut.

OoO

Jenny eyed her father nervously as he ended the call. Charlene? As in—but he couldn't have—and what more could that horrible woman possibly want?

"Dad—" she started, slowly coming down the stairs to the main platform, but he simply shook his head.

"Nothing to worry about, Jenny, just a bit of business. It's all sorted now, anyway." While she would have liked for him to provide a little more detail, she wasn't about to push him. And if he said it was finished, she believed him. "Now what are you doing awake?"

"I've had enough sleep, and I heard the phone," she answered. A full Time Lord like him, Jenny could run off of minimal sleep as well, while her step-mum required just a few extra hours, still less than the average human.

He was staring down at the mobile still clenched in his fist and appeared to be in deep thought. Nodding once to himself, the Doctor met her gaze again. "Well, if you're up perhaps you can help me."

"Of course," she answered almost immediately, ready to do anything.

"I presume River has been going over takeoff procedure with you?" He asked, likely rhetorically as he began pushing buttons that she knew began the process- though she was sure the professor had said to pull that lever _down_ not up. Still, she felt the need to clarify.

"Sure, but I've only ever actually helped fly her once. It's mostly just been theory."

"Theory? Hah! That's just boring, that is," he scoffed, seeming to take great joy in doing so, and she began to wonder if this was part of the alleged war her parents had over piloting the TARDIS, according to her grandparents. "And you've never even left the planet in this thing, have you?"

"Well…no," she answered at last, realizing his point. She'd been sitting in a spaceship—not to mention a time machine—for how long and hardly used it. Jenny also felt a growing excitement, because was he saying…?

"Well then, Jenny, depress the input bar, turn that knob there, and we're off!" Grinning, she did as asked, and then grabbed onto the console in alarm as it began to shake violently. It hardly seemed to bother her father, however, as he merely laughed at her shocked expression and began to run around back and forth in circles pressing buttons and pulling and twisting things. One instrument he most notably did not touch was the blue stabilizers. She was amazed he did not even slip as he skidded about with only one shoe, but at last the tremors stopped and she relaxed her grip.

He'd come to a stop beside her and beamed as he waited expectantly. She could not even try to disappoint him. "Where are we?" Jenny asked in anticipation.

"Somewhere you'd never be able to get with that space-hopper of yours," he teased, bopping her on the nose affectionately before his smirk smoothed out into a smile as he took her gently by the hand. "Have a look," he told her, guiding her to the doors and pulling them open.

Jenny gasped. Out there, framed by the familiar wooden doorway, lights from the tiniest pinpricks to the most dazzling beacons shone in the endless expanse of space. And it wasn't the dark vacuum that people so often described it as, it was strewn with all sorts of hues; the inky, deep blues to the red embers of distant suns. And it did not stay still, so that she was turning her head this way and that to capture it all.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, hardly knowing what else to say, and she glanced back briefly to see him leaning against the doorframe. But his eyes were on her with a fond expression.

"It always is," he agreed softly, and she returned his smile before looking back outward. They stood there in silence for a minute or two until he said at normal volume, "Now, Jenny, I chose this particular region of space on this particular date for a specific region. You see those two stars out there?"

He reached one arm over her shoulder and pointed, and sure enough she saw them. "Yeah. They're quite close together, aren't they?"

"Exactly," he praised, causing her to grin again. "You see, they are both white dwarf stars, and they are about to merge together. The result is that they surpass critical mass."

"A type la supernova," she realized, turning to look at him with wide eyes, absolutely thrilled. "You brought me to see a supernova?" Her father nodded in excitement and she couldn't resist giving a little squeal as she hugged him tightly. "Thank you!"

The Doctor chuckled and as he reciprocated her embrace she felt something hard and rectangular press into her back. He was still holding the cell phone. "No need to thank me. But Jenny, we're also here for another purpose."

"Which is?" She inquired, drawing back to look up at him in some confusion. He didn't seem upset or grave, but his face was certainly more serious.

"I am about to do something incredibly childish and extremely dangerous. Also, it could be considered rude, but I don't think Martha will mind."

"What has Martha got to do—" She began, but his gaze snapped up over her head and he quickly seized her by the shoulders, whirling her around.

"It's starting!"

Her question died on her lips as she watched the light grow brighter and brighter until suddenly flaring outward in a fantastic explosion of light, mass, and energy. She was sure the only thing keeping their little blue box safe was the TARDIS itself, only increasing her admiration for the unbelievable ship.

"Get ready to shut the doors!" Her father warned, and she could only watch in astonishment as he leaned back like a pitcher and then hurled the mobile phone out into space, directly into the supernova. And also right through the TARDIS' extended air shell.

She felt like they'd been hit with a tremendous force, like a shockwave, and the noise of the explosion suddenly increased to a deafening roar. With an enormous amount of effort, Jenny threw her body's entire weight into the door, the Doctor doing likewise to the other, and struggled to shut it against the sheer power of the supernova. Somehow, they both managed it, and the click of the lock seemed to signal that their protective barriers had been reestablished, securing their safety. Jenny and her dad both leaned their backs against the door breathing heavily and neither speaking for a long moment.

At last, she turned to look at him and him at her. "Did we just battle a supernova?"

Jenny wasn't sure who started first, but soon they were both laughing and gasping for breath, using the door and each other as support. Perhaps it wasn't the funniest thing she'd ever done, but she couldn't seem to stop laughing, nor did she really want to.

"I'm assuming there's a good reason you two have nearly killed us and are now giggling about it like a pair of hyenas?" A dry voice questioned, and they both looked up to see River at the entrance of a corridor, wrapped elegantly in a dark green bathrobe over her nightclothes, but her hair wild and everywhere- a supernova of curls. Whether that was from having just woken up or being thrown about by their encounter with the full-on strength of the two white dwarfs, Jenny wasn't sure. And it only made them laugh harder as they finally slid down the doors to sit side by side on the floor. "I think I can safely assume this is how it's going to be from now on," the archeologist remarked, removing her hand from her hip and shaking her head, walking down the stairs to the console. But the exasperated smile on her face showed she did not mind.

"We'll be sure to wake you up first next time, River," her dad managed to quell his laughter to say, and she nodded in agreement.

"Good," her step-mum replied, "I think I'll take us back now though; you truly are lucky my parents can be such sound sleepers." Jenny winced a bit at that, feeling very glad indeed. She wasn't sure Amy would have appreciated being woken up by their little adventure.

But she was wrong in her belief that they had escaped the wrath of an angry redhead. As they landed, her father patted her hand and jumped up, starting for his wife to likely begin bickering about her use of the boringers again. Jenny stood, shaking her head at the pair, but then jumped in alarm as a loud banging began on the other side of the door.

"Doctor! Doctor, open up!" Donna Noble's voice could clearly be heard, and both adults whipped their heads about to stare at the door. Another round of pounding startled her father into action as he rushed back down to her side and wrenched the door open into the Chiswick night air.

"Donna, what—" He started to ask, but cut himself off when the woman launched herself over the threshold at him, crushing him in a hug.

"Oh thank God!" The human exclaimed, her relief doing nothing to lessen her grip, and her dad could only stare wordlessly down in bewilderment. "I heard the TARDIS leave and I thought- I don't even know what I thought!"

"Oh, Donna," the Doctor said, a guilty expression coming to his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't even think," was all he got to say before the temp abruptly pulled away, swung back, and soundly slapped him, causing him to actually stagger back a couple steps. "Donna!" He whined, rubbing at his quickly reddening cheek.

"Of course you didn't think, you stupid bloody genius!" She reprimanded, and he glanced down, ashamed. "You know I almost called Jack?" The other man had left for Cardiff earlier that evening to debrief his team on everything that had been going on in the past weeks, and to begin discussions on what Torchwood was going to do to prevent any future incidents like it. But he likely would have broken the sound barrier to drive back as soon as possible. Jenny was sure the only reason the woman hadn't called the Smith-Jones' was because of the kids.

"Sorry, Donna, it was my fault," she spoke up, causing both the redhead and her father to look at her in shock. "I wanted to see it, you know? The stars, the universe." It wasn't as if anyone else needed to know about the destruction of Martha's old mobile. Her dad had trusted her, requested her help to cast it off, move on from that. And that was more than enough. She had no issue telling a partial lie, if only to keep his secret safe.

He opened and shut his mouth a couple times, clearly thrown and unable to come up with anything to say. River, who had joined them by the door, met her eyes briefly with a knowing look, but chose not to speak as well. Donna's face softened somewhat.

"Oh, well, it's alright, really. I'm just being a nag. But I- I worry. It's hard, when you go away," she admitted.

"Donna Noble," the Doctor said at last, placing his hands lightly on the woman's shoulders so that she looked directly at him. "I won't ever leave you without saying goodbye, you know that."

"Of course," she nodded once, trying to offer a smile.

"And I'd never let him," Jenny added, trying to lighten the mood. It worked, as all three others chuckled.

"Oi, you mind keeping it down some? All the yelling and banging is making it a bit hard to sleep, and some of us need to," a terse Scottish voice called out, and they looked to see a tired Amy Pond at the top of the stairs. Rory, equally as bedraggled, had followed as well, allowing his wife to be their collective spokesperson.

The Doctor laughed again. "Of course, Pond, as you wish. I'm fairly sure the yelling and banging is no longer on the agenda tonight."

She rolled her eyes but offered a, "Goodnight," before leading her husband back to bed. Donna, the only other human present, chose that moment to yawn, and Jenny belatedly realized that the woman was still in her nightclothes, with not even a bathrobe.

"Go and get some sleep, Donna," her father suggested. "There'll be plenty of time to talk about leaving and seeing the universe in the morning."

"Promise?" The exhausted woman requested in a show of stubbornness.

"Cross my hearts," he responded, doing so. "Besides, I can't go," he revealed with an amused grin. "Your luggage is still on my ship."

"Oh," the redhead said, flushing red in embarrassment. "Well, I—"

"To bed, Donna Noble," he interrupted, still grinning, and as Jenny watched him escort the woman to her door, she could finally see the recovery, the man he had been before this terrible ordeal. And maybe, perhaps, a little bit more.

"So," she started as he returned to the ship, shutting the door. "What do we do since we've been grounded?" All three Time Lords, part-human or not, were still wide awake, after all.

"Well, I still haven't found where the Old Girl put the swimming pool," her father mused. "Shall we go on a quest?"

"Or I could just show you," River pointed out with a raised eyebrow. "How do you not know where it is?"

"Well of course you know," he pouted, grumbling something under his breath that sounded like the word favoritism. The TARDIS gave an admonishing hum in reply, to which he made a face up at the ceiling, in turn causing the two females to laugh.

"I could go for a swim," Jenny admitted, not sure if she wanted to go on a quest or just have River show them, knowing it would likely leave her father a Mr. Grumpy Face as Amy put it. But a mischievous gleam appeared in her step-mum's eye.

"I think I have an idea. Jenny can come with me while you go on your little quest. You'll have to give us a head start, of course, count to one-hundred or something."

"Hide-and-seek, River, really?" He scoffed, and the professor just laughed.

"Really. Now close your eyes, Sweetie." With a huff, he did as asked, and the curly-haired woman smirked, leaning in close. "Just try and find me, Doctor," River Song whispered, centimeters from his lips, but pulled back at the last second, turning and ushering Jenny down the corridor. There was a beat of silence as they rounded the corner, and then-

"One, two, three," her father began counting, and they broke into a run.

**At last, I updated! Super sorry, my computer died literally after I finished typing the first section, so I had to wait for the issue to be fixed to finish the chapter. At any rate, fun family bonding to augment the serious final confrontation between the Doctor and Dr. Griffiths. I'm hoping both were satisfactory. I am almost positive the next chapter will be the last. That being said, thanks so, so much for all of your favorites, follows, feedback, and C2s thus far, it's really helped me to get this story completed. I'm hoping that this sequel was an acceptable follow-up to It Can Come Back, and I hope you all will let me know how this chapter was despite its super-tardiness. Thanks for your patience and you time in reading this, and please review!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Ok guys, this is it. It's been gruesome, it's been bittersweet, but you guys have stuck through it all. Thanks so much for all the reviews, follows, and favorites everyone, that's what keeps me writing. Without further ado, the final chapter!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**

**Chapter Twenty**

"Donna, what on Earth are you doing?" Amy heard the Doctor question over her shoulder as they had been in the middle of a hug goodbye. It was time for the Time Lord to depart in his blue box, and while she was saddened as always to see him go, she couldn't be happier to see him fully restored to his mad, traveling self.

Pulling out of his embrace for the moment, Amy turned to see Donna Noble struggling out of the TARDIS with a very bulky suitcase.

The temp appeared to give up her task in favor of answering and so dropped the thing with a thud, straightening up and blowing her bangs out of her face. "As you so kindly pointed out last night, Martian, my things are still on your ship. So I figured I'd get them out before you forget and whisk them off to who-knows-where." She grabbed at the handle of her luggage again, but something had caught on the threshold and it didn't budge. "How does Gramps manage it?"

"Um, you want some help with that?" Jack offered. He, Martha, and Mickey had come back this afternoon in order to bid their own farewells.

As the Captain stepped forward, however, the Doctor, absolutely perplexed, said, "But I thought the whole point of your things being on board was so that I _could_ 'whisk them off to who-knows-where'. With you."

Donna gaped at him. "What? Are you bloody joking?"

He got an affronted look on his face. "I am not. That was the plan, wasn't it? You take some time off, get your life in order, then the universe! Unless you need more time or something. I mean, I just assumed," the alien began to backpedal at her continued incredulous expression.

"What about you getting _your_ life back in order?"

"Me?"

"You have a wife—and a daughter!" Her fellow redhead gestured at the two in question, who had been talking to Rory, Martha, and Mickey.

"I hadn't realized our presence made the TARDIS a no-friend zone," River commented, a slight amused quirk to her lips.

Jenny, on the other hand, looked worried. "Why would we change anything? Don't you want to travel with us?"

"Of course I do, but—"

"Then we'd be happy to have you," River stated, walking over and patting the other woman on the arm.

"I don't want to intrude," Donna protested weakly.

"Well, glad that's settled," the Doctor said brightly, as if the temp hadn't spoken. "Now then," he continued striding over to the police box doors and hefting her suitcase into his arms. "Blimey, I forgot how much you pack! I'll just move this back to your room. It is just the one, isn't it, Donna?"

The woman's gaze shifted away from his hopeful expression as she informed him, "The rest of it's in the console room."

"Donna!" He groaned.

"Oi! Don't get whiny with me, Spaceman, you're the one making me come!" The red-haired woman argued as she followed the alien into the spaceship.

"Do you need any help, dad?" Jenny called after them.

"No!" The Time Lord shouted back.

Amy joined her husband and the others, and looked at her granddaughter. "Now you know when you're running for your lives and your father says he doesn't need help, it really means—"

"I should definitely help him," the blonde replied dutifully, and Amy felt a sense of pride.

"Good girl," she praised before wrapping her arms around the shorter one. Oh, she was going to miss this girl so much. True, the last thing Amy Pond would have asked for before this whole ordeal was a granddaughter, but now that Jenny was real and flesh and blood hugging her back she just felt so incredibly lucky. It wasn't perfect, but it was another chance.

"Don't worry, mum. We'll take good care of each other," her daughter promised, and Amy turned to embrace her next.

"You'll have Christmas dinner at our house, and he also likes to show up unannounced sometimes," Rory was telling Jenny.

"Can we help it we're spontaneous psychopaths?" River shrugged after letting go of her.

"Point," her husband acknowledged.

The sound of a horn honking broke the relative peace, but everyone smiled upon seeing the green car that the noise had originated from.

"Sarah Jane, you made it!" Mickey greeted as the journalist pulled up to the curb and shut the engine off. She and a young boy, looking to be in his late teens, got out and met them.

"Oh thank goodness, we didn't miss it. Hello, everyone. This is Luke, my son," the brunette introduced.

"Come to see our loveable alien off?" Jack inquired with a grin.

"I'm here to see my friend off," Sarah Jane agreed with an amused shake of her head.

"Thanks for coming," Jenny moved forward to hug the older woman, and then shook her son's hand. "And nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you to," Luke replied politely. "Mum says that your whole birth-situation was kind of weird, too."

"Funny you should mention that," the girl started, clearly delighted to have an audience. As the two youngest-looking began to converse, River addressed the rest of them.

"I'm going to make sure to tell Donna this as well when I get the chance, but I just want to thank you all." As everyone opened their mouths to protest, she held up a hand. "I know you all feel like you did what you had to, but really, that's so much more than anyone could expect."

"It's what we expected of ourselves," Martha stated, and Amy found herself agreeing with the dark-haired woman's words. The whole time they'd been searching for the Doctor she'd never even had a thought that she should be doing something else.

"And don't forget to include yourself in that thank-you," the human doctor's husband added.

"I'm not so modest as to say I don't mean anything to him," the professor conceded, "but he's doing this for you. You all are what keeps him moving. I know it's hard to understand just how much he needs that—"

"River, we get it," Rory interrupted gently, placing his hand on her shoulder.

"And we'll be there for as long as he needs it," she vowed.

The archeologist smiled at them all, and there was a slight wetness to her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

Jack was glancing over towards the TARDIS doors. "Uh-oh, serious discussion time over. I think I hear the Bicker Buddies approaching."

"…not even sure why you need all those things anyway. You know, there is a Wardrobe Room, Donna."

"Like I'm trusting your fashion advice," the redhead scoffed as she stepped out of the ship's doors. The Doctor followed after, looking rather insulted.

"What's wrong with my fashion? If it's about the bowtie, for the last time bowties are—Sarah Jane!"

"What?" The temp looked at him, baffled, before following his gaze to the investigative journalist. "Oh!" She recovered quickly. "Glad you could make it."

"We're glad to be here," the older woman replied as she accepted the Time Lord's hug. "Donna, this is my son, Luke. You've already met him, Doctor."

"Yes, although I don't think he's met me," the alien grinned, shaking the teenager's hand. "Or rather this me. Hello, Luke, been looking both ways before crossing the street?"

Luke Smith, for his part, was eyeing the other in wonder. "Wow, you really do change your face."

"You are correct," the Doctor replied, taking great enjoyment as always from the awe of humans. "Your mother tells me you've been doing well at university."

"He helps me take care of K-9, too, when he's home," Sarah Jane informed him with pride. Her friend clapped the shorter male on the shoulder.

"Good man."

"Oh, dad, can we visit sometime? I really want to meet K-9," Jenny piped up, and Amy had to marvel at the interest and fondness reserved for a metal dog.

"Of course," the girl's father promised. "But for now, we've got a whole universe to explore."

"Wait, wait!" Out of the Chiswick house came Wilfred Mott and Sylvia Noble, running up to the group. "Have to wish our Donna good luck, after all," the old man clarified.

"Do try your best to be careful," Sylvia was advising her daughter even as they hugged. "Heaven knows he won't."

"I will, mum," the temp assured, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. She then hugged her grandfather tightly. "Bye, Gramps. I'll call as often as I can."

"Oh, thank you sweetheart, but we'll be fine. Go on out there and see those stars, eh?" The soldier pulled back and straightened his posture, snapping the Doctor a salute.

"Thank you, Wilf," the Doctor acknowledged, smiling genuinely as opposed to his usual disdain for military procedure. He faced the group at large, shaking his head as he remarked, "You all didn't have to come to see us off."

"Of course we did," Jack replied stubbornly.

It seemed their friend saw the lost cause that was convincing them otherwise, so he simply said, "Thank you. I truly hope the next time I see you lot all together, it's for a much happier occasion." They knew how much he hated worrying them, even as he knew he couldn't stop them from doing so.

"Well, why don't we just set up a day in the summer?" Rory suggested, and they all turned in interest to the man. "You know, just meet up and talk, have a meal. It's a bit domestic—"

"Why are you so unbelievably smart?" Amy asked rhetorically, reassuring him before he even had time to begin doubting himself with a kiss to his cheek.

"How would you lot feel about the 15th of July?" Mickey offered, adding, "It's Mandy's birthday, so Martha and I will both be calling off anyway."

"That sounds wonderful," Sarah Jane agreed with a smile.

"Barring any work incidents, I'm in," Jack gave his answer.

"I think that's a great idea. You know, Mandy is such a sweet kid," Donna told the proud parents.

"We're up for anything," Amy answered for the Ponds.

"July 15th it is, then!" The Doctor summed up, clapping his hands together and positively beaming, like just stopping by to see them all would be the adventure of the century for him.

"Speaking of Mandy," Martha mentioned, retrieving something from the bag that was slung over her shoulder, "she drew this and asked me to give it to you." It turned out to be a crayon drawing of the very blue box they were all standing before at the moment. A very vibrant blue with a bright yellow bulb on top and even the words 'Police Public Call Box' scrawled in a child's messy hand.

Slowly, almost reverently, the Time Lord reached a hand out, fingers halting just short of brushing it. His eyes flickered up to the human doctor's face as if asking permission, and at the tiny encouraging nod he received, he carefully plucked the drawing out of her hands and held it up to study intently. His face obscured now by the paper, it was the slight quivering of his shoulders that let Amy know just what he was trying to hide.

Jenny placed a gentle hand on her father's arm, and said to Martha, "Thank you. It really—"

"It- it's beautiful," the Doctor interrupted, his daughter's show of support seeming to allow him to open up just that little bit more. He'd lowered the paper enough so that she could see the slight wetness just leaking out of the corners of his eyes. By her daughter's warm smile, Amy could tell that River shared the same fondness and admiration for the drawing. "I mean, this ought to be in the Louvre!" His shaking voice betrayed the sincerity behind his attempt at humor, but they all chuckled anyway. The Smith-Jones pair was ready for the hug he pulled them into, not before making sure to hand the painting off to Jenny for safekeeping. "Thank you, Mickey Smith and Martha Jones, and your beautiful, kind family."

Upon pulling back, the alien wiped quickly at his eyes, likely trying to cover up his display of 'humany-wumany' emotions. Though some, like Sarah Jane, averted their gaze respectfully, others, like Jack, just grinned in delight at the sight. The Doctor glanced once at the Captain, giving in with a sigh and opening his arms.

"Any chance we can go easy on the hug?" He asked with just a hint of hopefulness.

"Not a chance, Doc," Jack replied, already wrapping the other man in one of his infamous bear-hugs, though Amy thought the American was perhaps being just a bit more careful than usual. They were all still anxious about his physical recovery, after all.

"Keep up the good work with the Torchwood team, Captain, and pass along my thanks."

"They'll be glad to hear it," Jack informed him. "They keep pestering me to introduce you to them, you know?" Amy found herself curious to meet the immortal man's coworkers, especially now that they'd helped them so much, particularly with the capture of Richard Butler.

"Some other time, then," the Doctor promised, and Jack released him. He turned next to the one out of all of them he'd known the longest. "My Sarah Jane Smith."

She leaned into his embrace and held him tightly. "I'm so glad we found you," she confessed, face turned to the side so he could hear, and he smiled into her hair.

"I am, too. I truly am." His eyes jumped up to the young boy standing close by. "You look after your mother for me, Luke Smith. She's too much of a treasure to do otherwise."

The journalist stepped back in order to duck her head in modest embarrassment. "Oh, really," she muttered, a pleased smile still turning up the corners of her mouth.

"I will," the teenager promised.

The Doctor nodded once, satisfied, before his eyes landed on her and Rory. "Ah, Ponds. I suppose I should apologize for the constant surprises." Jenny grinned a bit sheepishly along with him, but Amy shook her head.

"Nothing to apologize for. We like surprises."

"Especially good ones," her husband added, smiling warmly at the girl.

The Time Lord seemed glad to hear it, yet continued, "Still, you didn't have to- I mean, I'm incredibly grateful that you did, but—"

"You don't have to thank us," she chided him. "We don't care if it's by blood or not, Jenny's our granddaughter. And we're just grateful both you and her are safe, yeah?"

"Yes, well, I will be bringing her and your daughter back to visit often, don't you worry about that."

"We'll look forward to it, then," she informed him.

"And Doctor, I realize the adventuring is really fun," Rory conceded, "but just try and take it easy every once in a while. I mean, all of time and space? Have a day off every hundred years or so."

"We'll make sure he's not pushing it, dad, I promise," their daughter assured, placing a hand on the alien's arm when he tried to open his own mouth in answer. He pouted a bit until she smiled sweetly up at him, and then gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Oh, alright, if you insist. It can't hurt me." Rory appeared to be resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the other's grudging acceptance, but returned the hug their friend gave him. Assuming permission for once, the Doctor then wrapped her in a final hug. "We'll all miss you, Ponds," he murmured into her ear. "You sure you don't want to try another anniversary trip?"

It honestly had been such a long time since they'd flown in the TARDIS on an adventure with the mad man. And with a good part of their family now permanent passengers, it was an even more tempting offer. "Maybe," she muttered back under her breath. "I'll have to convince Rory, though. He's not too keen on those after the Starliner."

"Hm, good point. I will do my best to find something not doomed to crash and or blow up."

"Don't try too hard; that's half the fun." He pulled back laughing and she grinned. "Gotcha," she said smugly.

"Oh, you all…if we don't get going, I don't think I'm going to be able to leave," he shook his head, seeming half-irritated at them for proving so hard to depart from and half-irritated at himself for not having the strength to simply depart. "Now then, Donna, are you ready?"

"Well sure, I mean, I really don't have to—"

"You're not intruding, and I promised you last time that I'd take you to see the universe," he dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand, turning more serious as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "I want you to come."

Donna's resolve seemed to break at last as she threw her arms around him. "Oh thank God! I mean, I can't lie- I really want to. Oh, I've been waiting for this all year!"

When she let him go he grinned and took her hand. "Brilliant! Cause you know, there's loads more out there waiting for you."

"Yeah, plus someone's got to keep me company when these two want to be _alone_," Jenny remarked, gesturing to her parents. River smirked while her husband spluttered and turned rather red.

"Well that's- we—young lady, that is not—"

The blonde merely giggled, grabbing Donna's hand in one of hers and her father's hand's hand with her other one, who in turn grabbed hold of River's even as he was still blushing, and the group made their way into the TARDIS. Recovering from his discomfiture by completely changing the subject, he addressed the temp. "You know, I think maybe you'd like to just pop in real quick at the Ood Sphere—you won't recognize the place!" River and Jenny turned back quickly to wave a last goodbye before shutting the doors.

"Do I even want to know what an Ood Sphere is?" Sylvia Noble asked aloud before turning and heading back for the house. Wilf just grinned as he followed.

"Whatever it is, I'll bet it's got some aliens!"

Luke began to head back to the little car, but Amy was frowning in puzzlement. Usually the blue box would have vanished by now. Perhaps they were having trouble deciding on a pilot.

But then one of the doors banged open again and the Doctor poked his head out. "Wait!" They all jumped, wondering just what the holdup was now. "We said July 15th—what year?"

She and several others rolled their eyes, Rory raised an eyebrow, and Jack even slapped a hand to his forehead at the completely genuine question.

"Only the Boss," Mickey sighed, shaking his head.

Fortunately River appeared in the doorway next to him, tugging gently on his arm. "We've got it all worked out, Sweetie, I promise."

"Are you sure, cause I'd hate to get it wrong," he replied, though another thought seemed to occur to him. "What sort of thing might Mandy like for her birthday, Martha? Any particular time period or planet I should get it from?"

Martha laughed as she said, "Mandy tends to like normal, Earth things, Doctor. She's not even five!"

"I'm sure we'll think of something," River added, and he turned to her again.

"Yes, I suppose you're right—" But something he'd spotted as his eyes had darted back inside the ship had them widening in alarm. "No, Jenny, not the green switch!" He sprinted back up the stairs to the console. "Donna, assume the position!"

"_What_ position?" They heard the redhead holler back. River sighed before snapping the door shut, likely so she could race to the controls to fix whatever accidental damage had been done. But the TARDIS took off, quite literally as it soared upward some fifty or sixty feet in the air and spinning five times. As they all shielded their eyes to watch in some amazement and fear, the familiar wheezing was heard at last and the box faded from sight.

"I'm not sure I want to know what'll happen with those four crammed in there," Mickey spoke up after a moment of silence, and they all laughed. Because just the idea of the three Time Lords and Donna Noble traveling the universe together sounded like an adventure, and possibly a headache.

But Amy couldn't wait to hear all about it.

**So there it is, the story. I'm hoping the end has made up for all the drama and feels I put you guys through during this. Once more, I want to thank everyone for reading, reviewing, favoriting, following, adding it to your C2s, and whatever else. Your feedback and support keeps me coming back to write more! Now before anybody starts demanding a sequel, I will state that if I choose to, I have one final idea that I might want to use this established AU to write about. But I'd likely wait a couple weeks, perhaps a month to start on it. Of course if nobody wants a sequel, that's cool too. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the fic, thank you so much for reading, and please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey guys, it's a bit late notice, but I realized belatedly that while a lot of you enjoyed this story, you might have only it on alert or favorite, as opposed to me as an author. Keeping that in mind, I just wanted to let you all know that I have started a sequel, titled "I Tried To Stop", since I know a lot of you were interested in seeing one. So, once again, thanks for reading this sort of series of mine, and I hope you continue to enjoy. Thank you!**

**Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock**


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